


It All Comes Back To Snape: Book 1

by TheLoneRebels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adding horses because I can, At least he didn't Die Alone, Cue the Dark Lord, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Harry's Back! Draco is so happy about it. Not., Hermione is the voice of reason, I think I made Draco almost likable. Oh dear., Messing with Draco because I can, Severus knows how to make an Exit, Sorry Draco. No Hermione for You., The Devil You Know, Wand testing is such Fun!, dark times ahead, making deals with the devil, sevione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2020-07-31 12:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 58,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20115043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneRebels/pseuds/TheLoneRebels
Summary: *NOW COMPLETE!* Severus has grown up as a follower of the Dark Lord due to his family connection to the Malfoys, but his conscience isn't sure this is what he wants. In the aftermath of an A.U. version of the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione decides to go back in time to try and prevent the disastrous events that stole too many people. Sort of a Dramione to start, but will be a Sevmione in the next book.





	1. Introducing the Half-Blood Prince

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**Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters and any OC's that resemble real people are entirely coincidental. **

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**Warning: This story is a strong T, just to warn you. There is swearing, main character death, attempted rape, mentions of a lemony nature, and relatively descriptive violence. **

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** It All Comes Back to Snape - Book 1**

** Past and Present **

**Introducing the Half-Blood Prince:**

_Sat, Dec 16, 1977._

Severus Snape was miserable.

The morning sun was shining on the fresh glistening snow. The Scottish air was invigoratingly crisp but not unbearably cold. The sound of delighted laughter and chatter filled said air as hundreds of students were taken down to the train station for winter break via the thestral drawn sleighs that nearly all of the blissfully ignorant children thought were simply enchanted vehicles.

But none of this was a positive to Severus.

The sun was too bright and made him squint against the glare. Severus hated snow because it reminded him of the last time he’d played with Lily in the park, making magical snow angels, before his father dragged him home and beat the shit out of him before forbidding him to see her again. (He did anyway, just much more discreetly.) His muggle overcoat (his robes and uniform weren’t allowed at home) was too old and thin to ward off the chill for long, but he was too depressed to bother saying a warming charm. The laughter made his head and heart hurt because the last time he’d laughed with actual joy had been that same snow filled day about seven years ago. And the bony, black, horse-like thestrals, while magnificent, just reminded him that his life was a shitbox of tragedy that no one could ever understand.

Because only those who have seen death can see them. And Severus had seen too much death already.

He’d seen the scrawny stray kitten that he’d befriended as a toddler kicked to a flying death by his father. He’d watched countless animals die under his and his mother’s hand as they illicitly practiced his magic in the woods as a young child for the dual purpose of preparing him for a hard life ahead and providing food for them to eat since his father tended to drink away what little money they did have from his government pension. He’d seen an old beggar man gasp his last breath on the streets of Cokeworth, not a soul caring that the accomplished war vet who told the most amazing stories was homeless and hungry and sick. And last year, he’d even seen a fellow student die after a particularly bad Quidditch accident that Severus had just happened to see the aftermath of, having been in the hospital wing to deliver fresh potions at the time. The Hufflepuff Seeker had died within a minute of arriving, his skull cracked nearly all the way open from a terrible crash. Madam Pomfrey had been beyond devastated at her inability to save him.

And thus, as stated before, Severus Snape was miserable. 

Not that this was much different from his usual state of being, but today was even worse than normal.

MUCH worse than normal.

The reason for his current melancholic state was currently snogging her face off in the sleigh in front of him, and looking quite blissful about it, too.

He couldn’t bear to look at them any longer. But to change his seat so he was facing the other way would only incite the teasing comments of his ‘friends’ sharing the sleigh with him. As is, Brian, Robby, Crissy (a sixth year who was Robby’s girlfriend of the week), Evan, and Ruby (who was plastered to Evan’s side like a leech, as usual) were engaged in a painful recounting of the previous evening’s events. Including who danced with whom, who got drunk and made an ass of themselves, and of course, the highlight of the night; one surprise engagement done on bended knee with the biggest fucking diamond ring ever seen, followed by a teary eyed ‘yes’, and a kiss that made every girl fan themselves in envy.

_Fucking Potter. Can’t he keep his hands and lips to himself? _

_WHY did he have to propose to her at the winter ball last night in front of everyone?_

_And why did she have to bloody well say yes?_

Severus wanted to eviscerate him. He wanted to leap between the carriages and punch that self-satisfied smirk right off his pure-blood face. He wanted to steal Lily away from him and hide her in some enchanted castle forever, never to be sullied by the likes of James Potter again. He didn’t even care if Lily didn’t love him in return or never touched him with those perfect red lips; he just wanted her away from Potter. He wanted her to see that her precious ‘Jamie Bear’ was not as sweet and good as she thought he was.

But no matter how much Severus wanted those things, he knew he would never act upon his wishes.

Because, despite everything, he still loved Lily as his first and only real friend, and the thing he wanted most in the world was for her to be happy.

Somehow, James Potter made her happy.

The evidence was glaring him in the face in the form of her brilliant smile and soft laugher as Potter whispered something hopefully not too revolting in her ear. The way she was willingly wrapped up in his embrace. The way she held him back. The way her eyes sparkled whenever she looked at him.

_Merlin, I hate him so._

Because her eyes hadn’t sparkled at Severus for years, not since they were kids. Now she was basically a woman grown who knew what she wanted and was happy to take it.

_James ‘Look At Me, I’m A Bloody Brave Gryffindor’ Potter. That’s what she wanted. Him with his classic good looks and his filthy rich parents and his perfect bloodline. _

But he understood that Lily had every right to go after a secure future. Especially in this time of open warfare between Lord Voldemort and the Ministry.

She was too smart to fall for a homely looking half-blood with little money and a disgraced mother.

All of the girls were.

Severus had never had a girlfriend.

Most of the time, he convinced himself he didn’t want one because it would just be a distraction from his studies and potion making experiments, but he knew he was lying to himself. In his heart, Severus just wanted to be normal. He wanted to feel loved by someone other than his mother. He wanted to be needed for more than his academic skills. He wanted to be kissed by someone who thought he was desirable.

He wanted to be kissed the same way Lily was kissing Potter; lovingly, passionately… endlessly. _Merlin._

Severus averted his gaze, determinedly staring at the passing trees off to the side of the road. His friends droned on, not caring that he wasn’t contributing to the conversation.

Their ‘friendship’ was basically all an act anyway. It was more of a mutually beneficial arrangement. They let him hang out with them so he didn’t feel quite so much like a loser and they all benefitted from his superior academic skills. Severus was a walking encyclopedia of knowledge and they had no qualms about picking his brain whenever they were stuck on the drafting of an essay or doing homework.

And for those truly challenged individuals that couldn’t be bothered to do their own assignments, Severus was quite happy to do them in their stead.

For a price.

School robes and books weren’t cheap. And his father certainly wasn’t going to pay for them. His mother had had to hide away whatever pennies she could over the course of his first eleven years to fund his first year of Hogwarts. After that, Severus was on his own.

Well, except for Lucius, who liked to give generous presents. They’d only been in school together for one year because his cousin was six years older, but it was enough for the well respected Malfoy boy to help pave a decent place into the Hogwarts hierarchy for Severus.

They hadn’t known they were cousins when they first met, but Lucius had taken pity on the clearly dirt poor boy in cheap robes, feeling like he was somehow familiar, and offered Severus his protection from the school bullies until Severus established himself as someone to be respected, despite his age and size. (His mother had seen to that, teaching him every curse and spell she knew, thank Merlin. Thus the poor animals.) It turns out Severus had the exact same colouring as Lucius’ mother with jet black hair and eyes. The same colouring as Severus’ mother, too. Pure-blood Prince colouring, to be exact. With some tentative digging, they figured out that their mothers were sisters, with Severus’ being a disowned and thus no longer acknowledged member of the Prince family because of who she’d married. (Not that she’d had much of a choice, after she’d found herself pregnant by the muggle soldier who’d seduced her when she’d travelled to Cokeworth to investigate a magical mystery for the Ministry. Apparently Tobias Snape had been quite capable of being charming when he wanted to, and used to be passably handsome in his uniform.)

Severus spent a lot of time at Malfoy Manor over the school breaks after that, which his father had no problems with because he didn’t care what Severus was doing, as long as it wasn’t 'that devil cursed magic' in his dump of a home. His aunt Elena was the sweetest woman who was more than willing to overlook his half-blood status. She also, discreetly, and when she could safely do so, went to see Eileen, overjoyed to be reunited with her beloved older sister. Lucius’ father, on the other hand, barely tolerated Severus’ presence, but did so to appease his wife. Severus was careful to avoid the imposing man as much as possible, and if he was in the same room, like during meals, he very carefully kept his eyes down and his opinions to himself.

Abraxas Malfoy, just as light in colouring as his son with matching silver blond hair and silver grey eyes and nearly identical features, was quite set in his opinions on blood purity and was a firm supporter of Lord Voldemort. Severus found him highly intelligent and quite intimidating. He was also very ruthless with those he found unacceptable. Including his son. Lucius had had to conform to his father’s beliefs and standards right from the start or suffer extreme punishment. It was a wonder there was a caring bone left in his body, but Severus knew that underneath the pompous exterior he presented to the world, Lucius would always be the softhearted boy who had been the favourite Prefect of all the little Slytherins while he was there.

And so did his fiancé, Narcissa Black. Cissa was another example of a pure-blood who was raised to behave as though the rest of the world wasn’t worth the dirt under her shoes but somehow still had a heart underneath the snotty exterior. Lucius and Cissa had been together as long as Severus had known them, and now they were finally tying the knot and making it official with a Christmas wedding.

And Severus was actually part of the Groom’s party.

Not the Best Man, of course. That honour had to go to another pure-blood for the sake of appearances, and so fell to Lucius’ best school mate, Richard Nott, even though their friendship had become lukewarm at best without school to bind them together.

Severus was just chuffed to be included at all.

_I can’t wait to see Lucius again. It’s been months. _

_Just have to make it through a day at home before I can go to the Manor. _

_Merlin, I don’t want to go home at all. _

But Severus had to at least say hi to his mother or she’d be very sad and he couldn’t do that to her.

He startled slightly when the sleigh came to a stop, jerking his blank gaze away from the trees beyond the railroad track on one side of the road to see the train station on the other. _Finally._

Breathing a sigh of relief, Severus glanced at the sleigh in front of his as the self proclaimed ‘Marauders’ and their girlfriends disembarked with good natured ribbing at the couple who were so wrapped up in each other they hadn’t even noticed that their sleigh had stopped. Lily blushed as she pushed away from Potter and then jumped down from the sleigh with easy grace, looking delectable in muggle jeans and a long burgundy coat that almost matched her hair. 

Her eyes flicked towards Severus and they looked at each other for two whole seconds. His breath caught and his chest tightened with longing and misery because there was no gleam of friendship or warmth in her big emerald eyes. Only resignation at how things were now. “_You did this to yourself, Severus Snape,” _she thought very clearly, knowing he’d pick up on it with the eye contact. Then she turned away and smiled up at Potter as he jumped down beside her, dismissing Severus as someone she didn’t associate with anymore.

_I know. I’m so very very sorry._ His thoughts had been made vocal on more than one occasion in the past. But Lily would never forgive him for his one slip of the tongue under a moment of stress. (He had even vowed to never say the word 'mudblood' out loud again, mostly to her deaf ears.) Nor could she understand that his friendship with his fellow Slytherins was merely for his nearly desperate need to feel like he belonged.

And… she very much disapproved of his experiments into the Dark Arts.

She just couldn’t see that the Dark magic was what called to him. What made him feel powerful. What made him feel like he was worth something.

But Lily was so firmly entrenched in the Light, she would never understand.

Lily was an angel.

Severus felt like a minion of the devil himself, trying to claw his way up the pile of other minions for a glimmer of recognition at the top.

It was an accurate enough description of his life in regards to Lord Voldemort, who he had yet to meet, but was fairly certain he would be following for the rest of his life, considering everyone else he was associated with did.

Potter flicked his gaze at Severus as he put an arm around Lily and guided her towards the waiting train. Behind his round glasses, his hazel eyes were colder than the snow upon which they trod, and the warning was clear to see in the forefront of his mind.

_“Mine.”_

Severus hid his flinch and looked away. He didn’t want to accidentally read any other thoughts from Potter’s head. It wasn’t worth the pain.

“Hey, Sev, you getting off the sleigh or what?”

He turned his lifeless eyes towards Brian as he rose to his feet, who was looking at him with negligent curiosity from his position already standing on the ground. Severus was surprised to see that everyone else had already walked away. “Of course,” Severus said dryly, covering his tardiness with indifference. He moved forwards and jumped down to the ground, ignoring the step. “As if I would spend more time than necessary outside and in one of those ostentatious vehicles.” (The matching sleighs were ornately carved and covered in gold highlights on top of shiny black paint. Despite what he'd just said, he thought they were rather beautiful.)

Severus was careful not to actually look into Brian’s eyes (or any others he didn’t want to read) as he talked because he had no desire to hear or see what the other boy was thinking. His innate ability as a _Legilimens_ had always been there, even as a child.

It was always so comforting to know just how much your father despises you when he’s swinging a ham sized fist at you.

NOT.

Only two people knew he had the skill. The first was Lily, because he used to think she was his soulmate and had kept nothing from her. The other was his mother, who’d warned him to keep it to himself because he would find himself ostracized even worse than he already was if people knew. Or… someone would try and enslave him and use him as a tool for their own gains.

Neither option sounded pleasant. Aside from Lily, who he trusted not to tell despite their falling out, Severus kept his secret.

Brian huffed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t even know what that means, but don’t bother to tell me. You know I’ll never use such a fancy word.”

Severus smirked in a way as to be nearly unnoticeable as they walked towards the train platform of Hogsmeade Station where Hagrid was saying goodbyes and Happy Holidays to all of the students as they climbed into the cars. _No, you never would. Ironic, really, considering your pure-blood family is just as garish and extravagant as the rest of them, if not more so. _

As some of the last ones to climb up to the platform, the hirsute half giant had no trouble focusing on them. The gamekeeper of Hogwarts Castle smiled under his substantial mustache, mostly focusing on Severus. (Hagrid didn’t like Brian much because of a nasty prank the boy had played on him a few years ago that involved turning ALL of his hair neon pink and didn’t wash out for a good month.) “Severus. Brian.”

“Hagrid,” Severus said, returning his smile, looking up at one of the very few people who made him feel short. He’d always liked the oversized man who didn’t notice things like wealth and bloodlines, but judged people based on their personalities alone.

Brian nodded stiltedly with a faint sneer and continued on, leaving Severus behind. _No loss._

“Goin’ home, then?” Hagrid asked amiably.

“Unfortunately,” the black haired boy replied to black haired man, tucking his hands into his pockets to hopefully warm them up a little. “But only for a bit. Then I’m off to Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Cissa are getting married.”

Hagrid smiled wider. “Oh. Heard bout that, I did. Dumbledore mentioned it at supper the other day. Good for them. Good for them.”

Their similar night dark eyes slid apart as they both thought about their own pathetic prospects for marital bliss in the future.

They stood in awkward silence for a few seconds before Hagrid nodded at the train that was now whistling warningly. “Best you get on then, laddie, before it leaves without you.”

Severus didn’t really want to, but it was expected, and tradition, so he nodded. “Yes, I suppose I should.”

He reluctantly turned and walked towards the train as Hagrid called, “Have a Merry Christmas, Severus. And say hi to Lucius and Cissa for me!”

“I will!” he called back as he jumped onto the step just as the train started to chug forwards. _Tell Lucius and Cissa, anyway. I doubt my Christmas at home will be merry. It never is._ He waved once at the simple but caring man, receiving a wave in return. 

He stayed on the step, hanging on to the handrail for a few seconds as he watched Hagrid turn and walk back towards the patiently waiting thestrals, his massive shoulders slouched under his coat. Severus could easily sympathize with how lonely the uniquely bred man felt. 

Brian was impatiently waiting for him as he walked into the train properly. “I don’t know how you can be friendly to that bumbling oaf. He’s stupid and he shouldn’t even be employed by the school, being a dirty half-blood and all of the worst sort.”

Severus glared at the back of Brian’s oblivious head as they walked single file through the cars towards the ones unofficially designated for Slytherins. _Fucking ponce. I dare you to say that to Dumbledore’s face. _“Hagrid’s not stupid. And besides, he’s very helpful to me in acquiring many of the ingredients I need for my potions. Some of which you enjoy on a regular basis, I might add.”

Brian half turned, enlightenment in his pale blue eyes. “Oh, I get it. You’re using him. That’s fine, then.”

_That’s not exactly what I said, but if it keeps you happy, what the hell. _Severus smiled tightly. “Glad you approve.”

“Nice to see your Slytherin side, that’s all,” Brian said as he found a seat with their usual group.

_I almost wasn’t, _Severus thought, referring to how the Sorting Hat had almost put him in Gryffindor, muttering some nonsense about how brave he was. He'd had to threaten the mentally challenged hat with a perpetual hiccupping curse to get it to put him where he belonged. “Yes, well, I come by it naturally,” he said dryly, still standing.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Ruby asked from Evan’s lap, indicating the empty space beside them.

He shook his head. “Not just yet. I’m off to the dining carriage.”

His friends laughed and Ruby rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know where you put it, Sev. You should be as big as Hagrid with what you eat. You just finished breakfast an hour ago.”

_Try hardly eating at all whenever you’re at home and let’s see if you say the same. _Playing to their amusement, Severus looked down at his lean body and frowned at it comically. “I don’t know either, but there seems to be some sort of malfunction with my innards. I have more than a hollow leg. It’s like the food disappears as soon as it hits my stomach. I swear it feels like I never eat anything.” He shrugged casually. “I have resigned myself to the nearly inevitable possibility of resembling a burnt broomstick for the rest of my days.”

That had them snorting with giggles.

_Dunderheads. So easy to manipulate._

Severus left them to it, walking back the way he’d come from and aiming for the centrally placed dining carriage. He wasn’t actually after food for himself, but for his mother. No one knew it, but much of the food that Severus apparently gobbled down actually went into a magic container that he kept disillusioned by his plate and then hid in an undetectable expanded pocket of his robes.

This container was then given to the eagle-owl he’d raised from a chick, Elehootay. She was a beautiful brown and gold spotted owl that Severus had accidentally orphaned while training in the woods as a boy. She’d had to stay in the woods because his father would have killed her if he knew Severus had a pet, but he’d put enough protection spells on her nest to ensure no predators got her until she was big enough to fly on her own and hunt for herself. Now she lived at Hogwarts with him and they were both quite happy about it. Elehootay enjoyed the almost daily overnight flight home to Cokeworth to deliver the container of food to his mother, and usually brought back a little note from her that always made him smile.

Elehootay was already at home, waiting for him in the park near his house, since he’d told her to stay there after last night’s delivery.

As he passed between one carriage and the next, he murmured a disillusionment charm of his own invention that worked far better than the chameleon version that was taught in school, rendering him completely invisible, even to himself. The next step had him adding a sound dampening charm, also of his own invention, that would conceal the sound of his breathing and footsteps. It was a variation of the _Muffliato_ spell that he had invented a few years ago and made public knowledge, earning him a pathetic Certificate of Achievement from the Ministry. The spell was already being taught in school by Flitwick as if it had been around forever and it seemed that no one could remember who had invented it.

After that, he had publicized one more spell that he had made public knowledge via an outside source, giving credit to his alias, The Half-Blood Prince, in a popular wizarding magazine, stating only that he was an anonymous student from Hogwarts. (The only people at school who knew or had known that Severus was a disinherited Prince were Lily and Lucius. And since there were no other young Princes in the school system and hadn’t been for years, everyone else assumed the name referred to a royal title as opposed to the pure-blood family.) This one was a jinx known as _Levicorpus _and its countermeasure_, Liberacorpus, _and had become so ridiculously popular that half the population of Hogwarts had ended up hanging by their ankles over the course of a week during fifth year. Including Severus himself, at Potter’s wand tip, of course.

Severus had NOT liked being subject to his own spells and had kept the rest of his inventions to himself after that.

The Certificate of Achievement for that spell was hanging in Dumbledore’s office, waiting for its owner to come claim it.

Severus had no intention of ever doing so. He liked the idea of the mystery haunting the school forever.

He moved through the next two carriages like something even less noticeable than a shadow, snatches of conversation caught on the way by.

“… Soooo romantic.”

“…what she’s wearing?”

“Did you see…”

“He’s sooo dreamy…”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Shhhhh, they’ll hear.”

Severus paused at that last one. He peered through the rather steamy window into the private compartment and found what he was pretty sure was Black’s distinctive curly head buried between the shapely legs of a sixth year Hufflepuff girl called Karen or Candy or Carol or something to that effect. From what he could see through the blurry window, the girl looked like she was about a second away from ecstasy. _Damn. That bloody Gryffindor bastard has moves. She will undoubtedly reciprocate after a performance like that. _

Despite how much he’d love for Sirius Black to get caught, the girl didn’t deserve it, so Severus flicked a quick silencing spell on the door that would last for half an hour or so.

The girl’s accelerating noises instantly vanished, _Thank Merlin. _

Severus moved on, somewhat uncomfortable in the trouser department, thanks to the show.

He reached the dining carriage soon enough and entered on the heels of a boy who looked about the right age for a third year. A hungry third year. Like most boys going through puberty, this one’s appetite was voracious.

Severus secretly smiled at the boy as he watched him fill up a plate full of sausages and scrambled eggs and then take it to a table that already contained three other boys eagerly devouring a second breakfast. (One of the perks of the train rides was a perpetual buffet.)

Pulling out another bespelled container, Severus filled it with the breakfast foods being offered and then added a fragrant roll with fresh butter melting into it. The container was tucked back into his pocket and would be gifted to his mother with food just as hot and fresh as it was now. 

Magic really was a wondrous thing. Severus couldn’t imagine living without it.

Unable to resist the fluffy bread rolls, he buttered one for himself and ate it with great appreciation as he made his way back to the last Slytherin carriage. If anyone noticed the smell of fresh bread as he passed, they would merely get the urge to go visit the dining carriage themselves. He took his time in returning, not exactly eager to sit through more of the insipid conversation his schoolmates were inclined towards babbling on a constant basis. Occasionally, he’d have to plaster himself to a wall to avoid getting trompled over by two people walking side by side, but otherwise, his trip through the train was uneventful.

Until he reached the Gryffindor car full of private compartments again, that is.

As he passed by a steamy window only two down from the first one he’d encountered, he heard another feminine moan. That was quickly followed by, “Ohhhhh, Jamie, don’t ever stop.”

Severus came to a dead halt, he stopped breathing, and his head turned in slow motion towards the closed door of the compartment. _Oh, the fuck no, they’re not!_

He took a step forward and pressed his considerable nose to the glass.

His heart broke into about a thousand pieces at what he saw.

Potter had her up against the outside window and they were most definitely going at it like possessed rabbits. He could see the blurry outline of their bare legs, with hers wrapped around his waist, and Lily’s head and arms were thrown back against the outside window, fingers grasping the frame for dear life, with her curls tumbling around her. She looked like she was in heaven.

He watched for five whole seconds because he was too shocked to move.

But then he was running.

Running as if one of the beasts of hell his father was always saying was coming to carry him away was after him for real.

_Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. I’m going to be sick._

He screeched to a stop between the last two passenger carriages, gripping the railing hard until his knuckles went completely bloodless.

_Breathe. Just breathe. I will NOT be sick over this. If father whipping me to within an inch of my life isn’t enough to make me barf, then this shouldn’t be either. _

_Come on, Sev, you’re strong. You knew they were shagging. The visual proof of it isn’t going to change anything._

_I know. I know. It’s just… hard to see._

_Get over it, you whinging pillock._

And so, with a few more deep breaths, he did. Mostly.

But there was no way he was staying on this train any longer.

He needed off.

NOW.

Releasing the disillusionment and silencing spells, Severus stepped into the last carriage and was immediately met with too many sounds and smells. Too much talking. Too much laughter. Too much perfume and cologne. Too much body odour.

His already sensitive senses were working overtime.

Focusing past the plethora of stimuli, Severus made for the door on the far end of the open seating carriage.

Spotting him, Brian and Robby jumped up to follow.

“Hey. Sev! Where you going?” Evan called. 

“Home,” Severus said stiltedly, pushing open the last door to freedom.

This caught the attention of nearly the entire carriage of Slytherins and there was a sudden rush towards the back door.

Brian and Robby followed Severus outside onto the tiny deck at the back of the train.

“What do you mean you’re going home?” Brain asked, incredulous.

Severus shot the marginally shorter boy a look of annoyance. “I mean I’m going home. I’m sick of wasting my time on these pointless fucking trains. Why should I go all the way to London and then apparate back to the Midlands?”

Brian and Robby looked at each other and shrugged as more Slytherins crowded out onto the deck and into the doorway. “What’s he doing?” someone asked from the back of the pack.

“Aside from the tradition of it, I guess that makes sense,” Brain said uncertainly. 

“But the wards won’t let anyone apparate onto or off of the train,” Robby added reasonably.

Severus smiled a tiny secret smile. “True. But the wards don’t stop anyone from WALKING off the train.”

Their jaws dropped in shock and Severus grinned fleetingly at the reaction.

Then without another word, he glanced at his coat and mouthed the flying charm, flicking the wand hidden up his sleeve at himself. Immediately feeling lighter as his coat defied gravity, he walked down the stairs and stepped off into thin air. He was left behind in only seconds as he hovered in the cold December air and the train sped on without him.

“Holy shite!” Brian and Robby and nearly a dozen other students all exclaimed at the same time. (Or something similar.)

“What?! What did he do?” the same poor person at the back of the crowd called, too stupid to try looking out a window.

Severus gave the gawking Slytherins a jaunty salute and then spun right where he hovered, sending himself into an instant apparition, grateful he was past the age of majority and no longer had a magical trace on him. (The Ministry would definitely disapprove.)

Within ten minutes of his dramatic leave-taking, the students on the train were no longer gossiping about The Most Romantic Engagement Ever, but about the Best Exit From A Train In History. 

To the students of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape became a legend that day.

And James and Lily were caught with their trousers down as a second year Slytherin went running up the halls, banging open doors, telling everyone about what he'd seen.

The whole train heard about that in short order as well. 

Severus MAY have factored in the possibility of such an occurrence happening when he decided to immediately evacuate the train, but you'd never get him to admit it. 

* * *

**A/N 3: I'm including a (not so) little list of people's ages and stats (or as best as I can guess if no canon info provided) at this point in the story so everyone is on the same page as myself. I had to figure all of this out for the purpose of writing my Snape books (took forever, lol), so I thought you all would appreciate it as well. (If not, just scroll on past. :P)**

**I will add to this list in the future if I run into more characters that I haven't thought of yet, so you can come back to this chapter if a new character is introduced and you didn't see it on the list when you first read it.**

* * *

**Characters in approximate order of age as of Dec, 1977:**

_Bartemius Crouch Jr.: 15, Slytherin, Short strawberry blond hair, Brown eyes, 5'8", Born early 1962. (Eyes and height are my best guess.)_

_Crissy Strapleton: 16, Ravenclaw, Long curly blonde hair, Blue eyes, 5'2", Born early 1961. (OC)_

_Regulus Black: 16, Slytherin, Short black hair, Grey eyes, 5'10", Born mid 1961. (Eyes and height is my own guess.)_

_Severus Snape: 17, Slytherin, Longish black hair, Black eyes, 6'2", Born Jan 9 1960._

_Lily Evans: 17, Gryffindor, Long curly red hair, Bottle green eyes, 5'6", Born Jan 30 1960. (Height is my guess.)_

_Evan Rosier: 17, Slytherin, Short brown hair, Brown eyes, 6'0", Born early 1960. (Colouring and height is my own.)_

_Remus Lupin: 17, Gryffindor, Short brown hair, Green eyes, 6'2", Born Mar 10 1960._

_James Potter: 17, Gryffindor, Short black hair, Hazel eyes, 5'10", Born Mar 27 1960. (Height is my own guess.)_

_Ruby Wilkes: 17, Slytherin, Long straight auburn hair, Hazel eyes, 5'4", Born mid 1960. (First name, gender, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Peter Pettigrew: 17, Gryffindor, Short brown hair, Grey eyes, 5'6", Born mid 1960. (Eyes and height is mine.)_

_Brian Avery: 18, Slytherin, Short golden blond hair, Blue eyes, 6'1", Born late 1959. (First name, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Sirius Black: 18, Gryffindor, Longish curly black hair, Grey eyes, 5'9", Born Nov 3 1959._

_Robby Mulciber: 18, Slytherin, Longish curly brown hair, Green eyes, 5'11", Born late 1959. (First name, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Narcissa Black: 22, Slytherin, Long straight golden blonde hair, Blue eyes, 5'7", Born early 1955. (Height is my guess.)_

_Lucius Malfoy: 23, Slytherin, Longish straight platinum blond hair, Grey eyes, 6'0", Born mid 1954. (Height is my guess.)_

_Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black): 26, Slytherin, Long curly black hair, Brown eyes, 5'8", Born 1951. (Eyes and height is my best guess.)_

_Poppy Pomfrey: 30, Hufflepuff, Long dirty blonde hair, Blue eyes, 5'5", Born 1947. (Age, House, Colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Rabastan Lestrange: 32, Slytherin, short straight brown hair, Brown eyes, 6'0", Born 1945. (Age, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Rodolphus Lestrange: 35, Slytherin, short straight brown hair, Brown eyes, 6'1", Born 1942. (Age, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Fenrir Greyback: 37, Slytherin, Longish wavy brown hair, Blue eyes, 6'3", Born 1940. Werewolf. (Age, House, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Filius Flitwick: 39, Ravenclaw, Short auburn hair, Brown eyes, 3'9", Born Oct 17 1938. (I've amended the year from canon because it simply doesn't make sense with his accomplishments between graduating from Hogwarts and returning as a Professor. They have him already teaching at 19? Colouring and height is my best guess.)_

_Elena Malfoy (nee Prince): 43, Hufflepuff, Long straight black hair, Black eyes, 5'6", Born 1934. (OC)_

_Abraxas Malfoy: 44, Slytherin, Long platinum blond hair, Grey eyes, 6'0", Born 1933. (Age, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Bartemius Crouch Sr.: 45, Ravenclaw, Short brown hair, Brown eyes, 5'10", Born 1932. (Age, House, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Alastor Moody: 46, Gryffindor, Longish wavy auburn hair, One brown eye and one magical blue eye, 6'2", Born 1931. (Age, House, and colouring is my best guess.)_

_Druella Black (nee Rosier): 47, Slytherin, Long, curly black hair, brown eyes, 5'3", Born 1930. (Except for the name, mostly OC.)_

_Salinda Nott (nee Gaunt): 47, Ravenclaw, Long blonde hair, Blue eyes, 5'2", Born 1930. (Except for last name, mostly OC.) _

_Eileen Snape (nee Prince): 47, Slytherin, Long straight black hair, Black eyes, 5'7", Born 1930. (Age, colouring, and height is my invention.) _

_Cygnus Black III: 48, Slytherin, short auburn hair, brown eyes, 6'1", Born 1929. (Except for the name, mostly OC.) _

_Rubeus Hagrid: 49, Gryffindor, Long curly black hair with hints of grey, Black eyes, 11'6", Born Dec 6 1928._

_Richard Nott: 50, Slytherin, Short brown hair, brown eyes, 5'11", Born mid 1927. (Except for last name, mostly OC.)_

_Lord Voldemort (Tom Riddle): 51, Slytherin, Short black hair with grey at the temples, Brown eyes, 5'11", Born Dec 31 1926._

_Tobias Snape: 52, Muggle, Retired Major of the British Army, missing lower left leg, Very short grey hair, Blue eyes, 6'4", Born 1925. (Everything but name is my invention.)_

_Dobby: 58, House-Elf, bald, green eyes, 3', Born June 28, 1919. (Age is my invention.) _

_Pomona Sprout: 62, Hufflepuff, Longish curly grey hair, Black eyes, 5'1", Born May 15, 1915. (Age, eyes, and height is my best guess.)_

_Rolanda Hooch: 74: Ravenclaw, Short grey and platinum hair, Yellow eyes, 5'9", Born 1903. (Age, House, colouring, and height is my invention.)_

_Horace Slughorn: 75, Slytherin, Short and thinning grey hair, Light green eyes, 5'10", Born Apr 28, 1902. (Age and height is my best guess.)_

_Minerva McGonagall: 84, Gryffindor, Long salt and pepper hair, Blue eyes, 5'9", Born Oct 4 1893. (Age and eyes is my best guess based on her appearance in Crimes of Grindelwald.)_

_Albus Dumbledore: 96, Gryffindor, Long wavy silver hair, Blue eyes, 5'11", Born 1881. _

* * *

**Other characters in approximate order of age as of May, 1998:**

_Luna Lovegood: 16, Ravenclaw, Long curly blonde hair, Grey eyes, 5'2", Born Feb 13, 1981 (Height is my best guess.) _

_Ginny Weasley: 16, Gryffindor, Long strait red hair, Brown eyes, 5'5", Born Aug 11 1981_

_Ron Weasley: 17, Gryffindor, Short red hair, Blue eyes, 6'0", Born Mar 1 1980._

_Draco Malfoy: 17, Slytherin, Short platinum blond hair, Grey eyes, 5'9", Born Jun 5 1980._

_Neville Longbottom: 17, Gryffindor, Short dirty blond hair, Hazel eyes, 6'2", Born Jul 30 1980. (Eyes and height are my best guess.)_

_Harry Potter: 17, Gryffindor, Short black hair, Bottle green eyes, 5'10", Born Jul 31 1980. (Height is my best guess.)_

_Hermione Granger: 18, Gryffindor, Long (insanely) curly brown hair, Brown eyes, 5'5", Born Sep 19 1979. (Plus an extra third of a year or so for Time-Turner use.)_


	2. Failure

**Failure:**

_Sat, May 2, 1998, The Battle of Hogwarts the 2nd. (Or is it the 1st?) (Gotta love time travel conundrums.)_

"Harry!"

Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of her generation, came to a dead stop and experienced the now familiar wave of helplessness as she watched her best friend fall to his knees. _Merlin, not again. Poor Harry._ The young and overburdened wizard pressed a trembling hand to his scarred forehead, grimacing in pain. His other hand turned nearly white as it clutched his wand in a convulsive grip.

The eighteen plus year old girl, covered in scorched and much abused muggle clothes of jeans and a form fitting, hooded, pastel striped jumper, put a comforting hand on Harry Potter's shoulder as he shuddered through the latest vision.

Ronald Weasley, her other best friend (and maybe boyfriend if that life-affirming and very unplanned kiss in the Chamber of Secrets was anything to go by), screeched to a halt at her cry and ran back to them. The red headed boy hovered over the black haired one, waiting anxiously for Harry to get back up so they could continue on with their mission to find and kill the last horcrux; one massive snake known as Nagini.

While Hermione gave her silent support to the Wizarding world's only hope of freedom and peace, she looked around Ron, ahead to the landing of the stairs that led down to the Entrance Hall of the castle. Through the opening of the hallway, she saw chaos. People darted and dived as the light of curses and hexes flew through the air. The castle rumbled around her in protest as stone walls shattered and floors heaved. There were screams and shouts as Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters and other vile allies sought to murder all who would oppose their Lord.

The sheer amount of magic being used was enough to make her hair stand on end. That is, it would have if it hadn't already been drenched by the slimy water of the underground chamber that housed the dead basilisk. And then scorched into a near ball of flame on her head by the heat of the fiendfyre in the Room of Hidden Things that the Room of Requirement had opened up for Harry. Her hair had then been drenched again after Ron had noticed her curly mane sparking. He'd done a wide eyed double take and promptly soaked her in an _aguamenti_ spell, leaving her sputtering and glaring. (To which he'd given her his signature sideways 'oops?' smile.)

Ron was ever so helpful.

Not.

_I love him anyway. But I'm still not a hundred percent convinced yet that I'm IN love with him. Or just trying to tell myself that I should be. _

Putting that conundrum away for a time when they weren't fighting for their lives and countless others besides, she ran a frustrated hand through her hair. Her fingers immediately became stuck in the tangles. Wincing, she worked through the knot while waiting for Harry's vision to end. Hermione did NOT want to see what her nearly impossible to contain hair was going to look like when it dried again, but at least with it damp, it was staying out of her face for once without the benefit of an industrial strength hair tie.

With a grunt, Harry surged back up onto his feet suddenly, displacing Hermione's hand.

"You all right there, mate?" Ron asked, putting out a hand to steady a swaying Harry, but dropping it quickly when said Harry glared at it.

"I'm fine," Harry growled, in a bit of a temper.

Hermione honestly couldn't blame him for it. The younger boy had so much pressure on his shoulders, it wasn't even remotely funny. Everyone was counting on him to defeat the most powerful Dark Wizard to ever live in some miraculous feat. What very few knew was that Harry would have to die to do it because Harry was a horcrux too. The only plausible way that Hermione had come up with for Harry to accomplish this was for he and Voldemort to kill each other at the same time.

It was very depressing.

She really didn't want to lose her best friend. And neither did Ron. _Maybe that's why we're clinging to each other now._

Harry spun and headed back down the corridor, saying, "I know where He is. He just summoned someone to him. He's in Hagrid's hut."

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other and shrugged, then ran after their friend who was quickly regaining his strength and balance.

"What about the snake?" Ron asked as he caught up.

"And what about Hagrid?" she added.

Harry dashed into a side corridor that lead to the side of the castle and the stairs that went down the hill to Hagrid's hut. "It's with Him. I saw through its eyes again. And Hagrid wasn't there." Harry paused at the side door, his usually bright green eyes dark in the dim hallway and filled with resolution. "You two will have to deal with the snake while I distract Him, okay?"

"Sure, Harry."

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said at the same time.

He gave them a flicker of his old smile and then they were out in the dark grey of very early morning, running nearly flat out down the precarious stone steps imbedded in the grassy hill. Hermione prayed that none of them stumbled and broke an ankle on the way down.

It worked. Because they made it.

Despite the adrenaline and the exercise, Hermione felt a shiver travel down her spine from the frigid spring air of nighttime Scotland and her damp hair and clothes. Resigned to the inevitable bush that would become her head, she pointed her wand at herself and muttered, "_Aguamenti Expelliamo._" She grimaced as her insane curls immediately started floating with static electricity.

Running as quietly across the grass as they could, keeping low to hopefully avoid being spotted out a window, the three heroes found their way to just underneath the window beside Hagrid's front door.

Voices wafted out into the grey dawn.

What they heard kept the teenagers in their place, frozen in shock.

* * *

Severus Snape, Potions Master, reluctant Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and even more reluctant double agent for both sides of the war, was stalking that bloody, child hunting werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, through the halls of his school. He'd wanted to put the perverted man down for years after having to endure watching him indulge in his unsavoury appetites with the Dark Lord's blessing, and now he finally had the chance without any repercussions.

In a battle such as this, with hundreds of people fighting at once, who's to say who actually killed who?

The one advantage to being Headmaster of the school was the innate knowledge that the sentient castle gave to him of the location of every single person that stepped foot in it. It was generally a headache worthy annoyance to know so much at once, but right now, Severus was glad for it. It was also something he hadn't known would happen when he was sworn in as Headmaster and still, months later, inspired irritated grumbles at the deceased Dumbledore for not warning him.

The old bastard had known exactly where every single out-of-bed-after-curfew student had been at all times and had still assigned people to stalk the halls and catch mischief making children or snogging teenagers. Severus being one of them, of course. As if he'd had time in his ridiculously overextended schedule for aimless hallway stalking.

Suffice it to say, there had been no late night snogging on Severus' watch.

"Sodding hell," the tall, dark, underweight, and incredibly stressed man cursed lightly as his left forearm suddenly burned viciously.

With no available time delaying excuse about not being able to apparate because of the castle wards that he'd taken down to let the Death Eaters in, he pushed up his sleeve the bare minimum to expose the bottom edge of the writhing Dark Mark on his wrist and touched his wand to it.

The automatic Apparition sent him straight to his Master's presence, which just happened to be inside the school Gamekeeper's hut. _I do hope Hagrid is all right. All I know for sure is that he's not in the castle and not dead on the floor in here. _

Throwing up his Occlumency shield and taking off his silver Death Eater mask, Severus immediately knelt down to one knee in front of the half reptilian man dressed in an austere black robe that did nothing to disguise the power radiating from him. "My Lord," Severus said in his most humble tone.

A second later, another form Apparated in, landing beside Severus in a less graceful stumble. A rather crispy looking Draco Malfoy also knelt in front of their Master and mumbled out an appropriate, "You summoned, My Lord?" _What in the hell has Draco gotten himself into this time?_

_Probably better for my peace of mind If I don't know, _he thought even while knowing he'd ask Draco for the story later. _Assuming we both survive, that is._

"Severus, Draco, thank you for your timely arrivals." Severus kept his face passive and downturned at the Dark Lord's sarcastic and disapproving tone, letting his long, unstyled hair shadow his features for added protection. _Merlin's balls, I couldn't have arrived faster if I'd tried. And Draco was only a second behind me. His unforgiving mood is NOT a good sign._

Severus' godson was also silent, if very tense, having learned long ago to speak the bare minimum to the Dark Lord or even within earshot of him, his snake, or any of the more vile Death Eaters.

In front of Severus, the cursed snake slithered around her Master's equally scaly feet lovingly, her slitted eyes never leaving Severus' suspicious gaze as she moved. Somehow he suppressed the shudder that travelled down his spine at the sense of doom that unexpectedly hit him.

"Rise," Voldemort snarled.

They did.

Voldemort moved to pace in front of them, ruby red snake eyes narrowed with the vertical pupils trained on them, his steps gliding in a way that most humans could never pull off. _But the Dark Lord wasn't precisely human anymore, was he_? With a flick of Dumbledore's wand, the angry wizard pushed the centrally located table and chairs out of his way, sending them slamming against the hearth. The snake stayed in front of Severus and Draco, rising up on her thick body to waist height.

"Tell me, Severus, how come I haven't seen you on the battlefield in the last quarter hour?"

"I pursued the enemy into the depths of the castle, My Lord," Severus said truthfully. "I have been in there ever since, tracking down and disposing of more."

Voldemort slithered to a sudden stop in front of Severus and pinned him in his hypnotic gaze. Without use of wand or spoken word, the powerful wizard dove into Severus' mind, uncaring as to finesse and privacy.

Occluding like his life depended on it (because it did), Severus pushed forward the images that his master wanted to see. He presented images of himself running though the hallways of Hogwarts in pursuit of students, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. He grimaced in pain as the wizard tried to dig past the false memory. Severus gave him a lightning fast stream of images of his time as Headmaster; paperwork, disciplining students with demeaning tasks such as scrubbing the floors on their hands and knees, more paperwork, and terrifying the children as he walked down the gaps between tables as the cowed young people ate their meager dinners in stilted silence.

This wasn't how Severus would have actually run the school if he didn't have Death Eaters-turned-incompetent-teachers spying on him and reporting to Voldemort. In truth, Severus hated the extreme discipline the children had had to live under for the better part of the school year, as it reminded him too much of his abusive homelife as a child. He'd had more nightmares in the last half year than in the previous ten years combined.

Sleeping was no longer welcome. And the bland food now served at Hogwarts had never been more unappealing.

Voldemort turned his gaze away, withdrawing from Severus' mind. He smirked, nodding once, finding the presented images acceptable. _Thank Circe. _Severus breathed somewhat easier as his head pounded like a hammer on an anvil had taken up residence within from the stress and forced legilimency of his master.

The reptilian man turned his gaze to Draco and stopped in front of him, towering over the shorter, platinum blond haired teenager. Draco flinched, but stood his ground bravely. _Easy, Draco. Remain calm. Remember your training. Keep your shields up. _"You failed your task, Malfoy," Voldemort hissed.

Draco visibly gulped. "My Lord, I…"

"Silence!"

Draco's mouth closed with a snap of teeth at the power in the command.

"I know you failed because I felt it when two more horcruxes were destroyed. Your only job in this confrontation was to stop Potter and his little friends from doing this and YOU FAILED!"

_Oh, shit._

"I'm sor…"

_"Crucio!"_

Draco seized and dropped to the ground, writhing in silent screams as the power of the curse poured from the wand in Voldemort's scaled and taloned hand.

Unable to help, Severus was forced to watch his godson be tortured for endless minutes with an inscrutable expression, for if he were to show sympathy for the boy, he would be in the same position in moments and that would not help the Order defeat this madman and his followers at all.

Eventually, the Dark Lord relented and left the boy panting and groaning on the dusty wooden floor. And then, with a flick of his fingers, he pointed at Draco and said, "Strike."

Nagini lunged forward eagerly and sank her fangs into Draco's thigh, causing the boy to scream in a fashion even worse than the Cruciatus Curse ever had (which he was unfortunately used to now) as the deadly venom shot through his system.

Severus maintained his mask of indifference out of sheer habit, but on the inside he was panicking. Draco was his to protect and he'd all but failed. His only hope was to get the anti-venom into him before it was too late to reverse the paralytic damage. In an unthinking action, Severus touched a magically expanded, soundproofed, and undetectable inner pocket of his robes that contained the numerous potions that he kept on him at all times for just such an occurrence.

"That's what I thought."

Severus' eyes shot to Voldemort's and saw the nasty smile that indicated he'd noticed the motion.

_Fuck, _Severus thought as his master raised his stolen wand again and said, _"Accio anti-venom." _

Two vials forced their way out of Severus' black robes and flew into Voldemort's waiting hand. He sneered as he glanced at the opaque liquid. "So predictable, Severus. You should take better care."

_I usually do. I've been taking 'better care' for two decades or more. I can't believe I fucked up this time._

Voldemort dropped one vial and crushed it under his bare foot, oblivious to the shards of glass that must have imbedded into his bare sole. _That took days to brew, you bastard._

Then the Dark Lord flicked his fingers at Severus and said, "Kill, Nagini."

_I should have seen that coming._

Severus didn't even have time to take more than a step back as the green and grey snake lunged up at him, piercing his neck with deadly intent. The weight of her body bore him to the floor, and the vein burning venom that flooded his system kept him there.

It was all Severus could do to not scream as the snake left him to bleed out on the floor, returning to her Master's side with a satisfied swish of her tail.

Severus raised a shaking hand to push against the gaping wounds on his neck, caused by the snake's overly large fangs.

Voldemort laughed.

The mocking sound made Severus shiver in revulsion on top of the fire eating him from the inside out.

"Now, Severus, my most Loyal Subject," the Dark Lord said snidely. "You have a choice. Who gets the last vial of anti-venom?"

_Draco, of course._

As much as Severus wanted to live, his life was not worth anywhere near as much as Draco's. The boy had so much potential and life yet to live. Unable to speak through his clamped together teeth that were holding in the screams, he flicked his eyes at the young man gasping for air beside him.

"Excellent choice, my friend," Voldemort mocked, tossing the vial lightly on Draco's chest. Severus was happy to see his godson fumble at it until he managed to uncork it and swallow the potent liquid. He could see the instant relief it brought the teenager and would have twitched his lips up in an approximation of a smile if he could have; but they were pulled back in a near permanent grimace of pain that he could do nothing about.

Severus returned his gaze to his Lord and Master and managed to groan out the word, "Why?" because he needed to know more than he needed to grit his teeth together.

"Why?" Voldemort repeated. "Because I have no use for you anymore, you traitorous whelp." He laughed viciously at Severus' shocked look. "You think I didn't know? You think I didn't know that your loyalty was to Dumbledore and not myself? Of course I knew. I set it up that way from the very beginning, you fool. The day you told me about the prophesy and then begged me to spare Lily Potter's life, I knew I had you. I knew you would turn to Dumbledore when I killed your precious Lily White Mudblood. You have been a perfect informant for me and I thank you for it, but I don't need you anymore."

"What. About. Potions?" Severus had been providing the Dark Lord and his underlings with all the potions they could want and had done so since he was seventeen. It was ridiculously expensive and mostly came out of Severus' pocket, of course. (With a little help from the Hogwarts store of ingredients.)

Voldemort sneered. "I can brew my own potions. And if my subjects want their daily fixes of hallucinogens, erection amplifiers, age reversers, and beauty enhancers, they can bloody well buy them on their own galleon."

_Why couldn't he have said all that twenty years ago? I'd be bloody well rich right now. Not that it would help my current situation. Nor would I be a Potions Master, considering I got my degree on his knut. No. That's not true. I would still be a Potions Master. It just would have taken me longer to pay for my schooling and I would have had to find my own Master to Apprentice under. And I would brew privately instead of teaching dunderheads. _

Severus' random, last minute wishful thinking thoughts came to a halt when his lungs started to seize, causing agonizing coughs to rip through his torn throat, and his body to curl into a protective ball.

Voldemort laughed once again. "So pathetic. Love is the biggest weakness of all, Severus Snape, and you fell for it. I'd never have been able to manipulate you if you hadn't. You're brilliant, Severus, but you'll never be as intelligent as I am." Voldemort smirked. "Especially not now." He kicked his dying servant in the kidney as he walked past, towards the door, calling over his shoulder, "Get your pathetic arse up, Draco, and return to the battle before your godfather's fate also befalls your worthless cunt of a mother. Perhaps you can redeem yourself by catching Potter and his friends for me. If not..." The threat hung on the air, unspoken. But it didn't need to be. Severus already knew the entire Malfoy family's days were numbered. If Voldemort had been playing Severus from the start, there was no way he didn't know that the Malfoys were also not exactly on his side.

Nagini slithered after her master, right over Severus' body in the most taunting fashion imaginable.

Draco forced himself to his knees, staring at his godfather in remorse, the hint of moisture in his eyes making them look like liquid silver. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. Severus forced a severely shaking arm up enough to touch Draco's jaw once in a last display of affection. _When did he become a man? Surely it wasn't that long ago that I was changing his nappies? _And then Draco pushed up to his feet, his right trouser leg plastered to it with trickling blood, and limped after the Master he had never had a choice but to follow.

Severus was sorry too, because he'd failed. He'd failed Draco. He'd failed his students. He'd failed Dumbledore. He'd failed his graveside vow to Lily to protect her son.

_Father always did say I would be a worthless failure. So much for proving him wrong._

* * *

While the heroic trio of teenagers were occupied with eavesdropping, a menacing figure snuck up to them from around the other side of the hut, pouncing with a gleeful snarl.

* * *

**A/N: _Aguamenti Expelliamo_: I made this up because I couldn't find a listed canon drying spell. If anyone knows of one and doesn't like mine, I'm happy to change it. **

**You'll also notice that I have Hermione saying 'god'. I know this isn't a wizardy term, but I figure growing up in a muggle house until she was 11 would have instilled in her some muggle sayings that would come out in times of stress. This exclamation is not meant to offend anyone. Severus also grew up as a part muggle, but I'm sure he would have abolished as much of that culture as he could from himself. **

**Also, I couldn't find anywhere in the wiki that it actually says Draco is Severus' godson, but I keep reading it in the fanfictions and I like the idea, so I'm going with it. And I honestly can't remember if it says something to the effect in the books or the movies, and don't feel like scouring either for proof. :P**


	3. Meet the Snape 'Family'

**A/N: Warning, physical and mental abuse ahead. Not for the faint hearted. Trust me.**

* * *

**Meet the Snape ‘Family’:**

_1977..._

Severus appeared with a crack in the depths of the small copse of trees that graced the desolate park only a few blocks from his home. (Although, that term was a bit of a stretch considering he rarely lived there. Perhaps it was more accurate to say his parents’ home.)

An excited sounding, “Wh-whooo,” was his only warning before a massive owl swept down from a treetop and skimmed past his head with enough momentum to flutter the shoulder length strands of his night dark hair.

The depressing memory of what was occurring on the train was pushed to the back of his mind as a delighted laugh escaped the young man, and he spun around on the spot, keeping the owl in his sight as she swept around in a circle. He raised his right arm invitingly as she swooped towards him again. “Elehootay! Come, My Beautiful.”

At the last moment, Elehootay spread her wings wide to slow her momentum and then she landed on his forearm with elegant grace. He fed her a bit of the bun he’d had on the train that he’d saved for her, which she gobbled up eagerly. Smiling, he stroked the soft feathers of her neck with a curled finger, rubbing the top of her head with his cheek. “Who’s my pretty girl? Are you my pretty girl?” he cooed, eyes closing in contentment.

A soft who-whoooo as she leaned into his touch was all the answer he needed.

After a few moments he pulled back enough to look into her intelligent golden eyes. “Is everything okay at home? Mother’s all right?” (It was a legitimate concern, considering his father had a terrible temper and massive fists that left a lot of damage, as he knew firsthand.)

The owl blinked slowly. “Whooooo.” 

Severus exhaled in relief. “Good. That’s good.”

He looked around him at the landscape where he had such fond memories of his better years spent with Lily and shook his head in resignation. “Those days are forever gone, aren’t they, Elehootay?”

“Whooo.”

“I should move on, I suppose. Pining after a girl who has chosen to gift her affections elsewhere is just stupid isn’t it?”

“Whooo.”

Severus turned bleak eyes back to his owl and stroked her head fondly. “And we both know the one thing I refuse to be is stupid.” 

“Whoooo.”

He chuckled. “You always were the best conversationalist.”

“Whoooooooo.”

Severus chucked her under the beak gently. “Silly girl. Come, let’s go home. It’s early enough that Father should still be passed out and you can come into the house for a bit. It will be nice to spend some quiet time with Mum.” He lifted his arm and she took flight with an easy flap of her wings.

Now feeling the cold once again, Severus turned up the collar of his coat and hunched into it before tucking his hands in his pockets. _At least it’s warmer than Scotland. _

_Warm._

_Merlin. _

_Perhaps I am stupid. _

Rolling his eyes at himself, he palmed his wand and touched it to the front panel of his plain black muggle overcoat and mouthed a warming charm that would last as long as he was wearing it.

Instantly feeling warmer, but tucking his hand back in his pocket anyway, he started walking, dead leaves crunching and crackling underfoot, leaving the small gathering of mixed pines and oaks behind; the former still green and vibrant, the latter barren and doing a fine job of mirroring how he felt about his life.

He made the trek home in near blissful silence. Being a cold Saturday morning, most of the residents of Cokeworth were all still huddled in their houses. The stores and markets wouldn’t open until after lunch time, unlike London where the shops seemed to be open all day, every day. Only one car passed him as he trudged down the edge of the cracked and pitted paved road, and a few dogs barked as he passed, stuck behind the fences of the tiny front garden that came with each row house.

Elehootay stayed high above, leisurely circling on the currents, but staying within sight. He glanced up on occasion just to see her reassuring silhouette against the moody grey sky.

Soon enough he was opening the squeaky gate into the pathetic front garden of the row house belonging to the last of the Snapes still living in Great Britain. (He had an uncle and cousins from his father’s side living in Canada, but Severus had never met them and didn’t think he wanted to, if they were anything like his father.)

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and walked up the dirt path that led to the front door. (No fancy cobblestone path for them, that’s for sure.) The weather-beaten and in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint front door was locked, as usual. Severus didn’t bother searching for the spare key that was occasionally actually left in the hiding spot above the doorframe. He simply mouthed _Alohomora _and the door clicked open on its own.

He stepped into the house that was nearly quiet except for the muffled snores from upstairs, the gentle hum of the refrigerator, and the ticking of a couple of clocks. He toed off his boots and tucked them into the shoe rack. His coat was left on because the temperature in the house was only a few degrees warmer than outside._ Home sweet home. _He scoffed. _Not. _Severus merely glanced over the drab and overused furnishings in the sitting room off to the left, reassured to not see his father’s form on the sofa in front of the TV, before walking on down the narrow hallway that ran beside the staircases up to the second floor and down to the basement.

Past the sitting room was the only bathroom in the house, and past that was the kitchen and dining room. He walked as quietly as possible without using magic (not hard to do in his stocking feet), not wanting to wake his father if he could help it.

He found his mother seated at the small table in the kitchen, head bent over a book and looking completely entranced by it. (He’d inherited her love of reading, of course. It certainly hadn’t come from his father, who considered the comics in the paper to be more than adequate reading material.) 

Severus leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, a small smile quirking up his lips. “Hi, Mum.”

Her head whipped up and her black eyes widened comically. He studied her in her moment of surprise. Her black hair was greyer than it should be, and there were more wrinkles around her eyes than normal for a witch of her age, but she was still beautiful to him. She still looked like a stiff breeze could blow her away, but she wasn’t alarmingly underweight like she had been before he’d gone to Hogwarts and started sending food home for her. (All Princes were lean, according to her.) She was wrapped up in a thick wool cloak over an older but still serviceable grey dress that he could just see the skirt of under the table. The fading bruising around her right eye made him frown in anger, but there was nothing he could do about it other than despise his father even more than he already did, and he wasn’t sure that was even possible. He couldn’t even heal it for her, or his father would beat her twice as hard in retaliation for the use of ‘the devil’s magic’ in his house.

“Severus!” She beamed and jumped up from her chair, rushing to hug him.

He met her halfway, enfolding her shorter form in his arms and resting his cheek on top of her soft hair. She still smelled wonderful, like roses and fresh bread; a scent he would always associate with ‘Mum’.

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” she said into his chest, hugging him even tighter.

“Hmmmmm. I may have Apparated off the train.”

She looked up, taking a step back and putting her hands on her hips, frowning at him in that displeased mother way that he knew she didn’t really mean, but she had to make the face anyway. “You didn’t.”

He smirked. “I did. It was bloody fabulous.”

“Severus.” Her lips pursed as she shook her head at him. _What am I going to do with you? _her thought jumped into his mind from the eye contact, which she knew it would.

He raised a snarky eyebrow. “Nothing, Mum.”

She huffed, blowing a wisp of hair off her forehead. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Indubitably.”

She laughed as she moved to sit again. “You are such a Prince. You would have fit right in, if a fraction or two taller than anyone else.”

He grinned. “Thank you. Father did pass down one decent gene, at least.”

She wrinkled her nose at him as she put a bookmark in her forgotten book and slid it off to the side. “I’m serious, though. I swear you’ve grown another inch since I saw you last.”

Severus shrugged and then kissed her on top of her head as he walked past to the back door that led to an equally desolate back garden to match the one out front that sported one pathetic willow tree and some scrawny rose bushes. “It’s possible.” He opened the door and whistled. Only seconds later, Elehootay flew into the kitchen and took up a perch on the back of one of the wooden chairs. Severus closed the door and sat in the chair with his owl.

He pulled the container of food out of the magically expanded pocket in his coat and put it in front of his mother. “Breakfast, courtesy of the Hogwarts Express.”

She smiled softly, eyes crinkling and sparkling just so, letting him see her love for him, making his chest swell with pride. “Thank you, Severus. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

Blushing, he jumped up and grabbed a fork from the silverware drawer, putting it down beside the container. “It’s nothing. Now eat, before Father wakes up.”

She rolled her eyes as she opened the container, gleaming with anticipation at the selection. “Not to worry.” She snatched up a strip of perfectly cooked bacon and delicately bit the end off of it with eye closing pleasure. “Merlin, that’s good,” she said after swallowing. Waving the bacon around as a pointer, she continued. “He came in late last night, completely tossed.” Another quick bite. “He won’t stagger out of bed until noon, at least.”

A thunderous crash from upstairs immediately contradicted her words.

They both looked up at the ceiling. “Fudge,” she muttered before inhaling the last of the bacon grasped between her fingers.

“He rolled off the bed again,” Severus sneered. Which meant that his father would be up for the day now. _Just bloody great. So much for having a nice visit with Mum. _

“Who-oo-oo.” It sounded like Elehootay was laughing even as Severus heard his father muttering curses and climbing back onto his feet… Well, foot and wooden peg. (There were more advanced prosthetics available to war vets, but Tobias Snape had somehow managed to lose his fake leg in a game of poker with his war buddies and the new owner thought it was hilarious to make his ex commanding officer win it back in the same way he’d lost it. That was a year ago. Severus thought it was fantastic. His father did not.)

_Shit! _Severus’ eyes widened and he popped off his chair again. “Come on, back outside with you. You can find me at Malfoy Manor tomorrow,” he whispered to his owl, dashing for the door and gesturing for Elehootay to make a break for it.

She fortunately obliged, flying off towards the woods just visible in the distance.

Severus closed the door very carefully and then returned to his chair as the distinctive sound of step, thump, step, thump, made its way across the floor upstairs.

Eileen vanished her forbidden book into a pocket of her cloak and Severus made the container of food disappear back into his pocket. She opened up yesterday’s paper to a random page and then stood, turning on the stove to start making breakfast for her husband, a fleeting look of resignation crossing her features just before she turned her back to Severus. She took the unused fork with her.

The step, thump, step, thumps were coming down the stairs.

Eileen filled a pot with water and rolled oats, her posture tensing under her clothes.

The step, thump, step, thumps were walking down the hallway.

They paused at the bathroom door, but continued on.

_That’s not good. _Mother and son glanced at each other with matching looks of alarm.

The massive figure of Tobias Snape filled the kitchen doorway a moment later, broad shoulders and barrel chest filling the space, and head ducked to avoid hitting the frame. (Severus had to duck now too, but not as much.) He was wearing yesterday’s wrinkled trousers and a greying undershirt under a rough terrycloth housecoat. He looked into the kitchen from under heavy brows, his piercing blue eyes taking in the scene from above his unshaven and frowning jaw.

“Why do I smell bacon?” he demanded accusingly.

_Fuck!_

Unfortunately, Severus inherited his sensitive nose from his father’s side.

Severus tried to play it cool despite the sudden trembling in his limbs. “I had bacon for breakfast before leaving school this morning. You must be smelling that.”

Tobias stalked further into the room, sniffing exaggeratedly. “I don’t believe you, boy. There was bacon in THIS kitchen recently.” He snatched Severus up out of the chair by the front of his coat like he weighed nothing and snarled right in his face, “You’re a dirty lying devil’s spawn. Where’s the bacon?” _He better tell me, or I'll beat the ever loving shit out of him once and for all. Why did I get stuck with such a pathetic, ugly, hell cursed, excuse for a son?_

In less than a second, Severus was clutching the tip of his wand in his hand, shaking in his father’s hold, so desperately wanting to curse the man who'd sired him, but not quite able to bring himself to do so. _Bloody fucking bastard. Why didn't I cleanse the air when he woke up?_

“Tobias…”

The snarling head swung around and pinned Eileen back against the oven with just a look. “Shut it, witch.” He focused on Severus again and shook him hard enough to rattle his teeth. “Answer me, boy.”

Severus clenched his teeth to keep them from clacking. And to hold in his anger. “There isn’t any bacon here.”

His father growled at him and flung him across the room. Severus hit the wall with a crash and a muffled grunt. Tobias stalked over to Eileen and grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her mouth open. He sniffed only once before letting her go only to backhand her across the cheek, snapping her head sideways. “That’s what I thought. You’ve had bacon,” he growled. “Hell's sluts don’t deserve bacon.” Another backhand and Severus was dragging himself off the floor with his own angry growl.

“Leave Mum alone!” he shouted, wand pointed in warning in a shaking hand. 

Tobias swung back around, eyes narrowing in rage at the sight of the wand. “What did I tell you about magic in this house, boy!?” He was stomping back towards Severus in an instant with more speed than one would think possible for such a large man. It was at times like this that Severus was reminded that his father used to be a highly trained muggle soldier. 

Ingrained fear of the man was the only thing that kept him from shouting out a curse that would have stopped his father from wrenching the deep brown walnut wood wand right out of his hand.

Severus’ eyes widened even further in alarmed premonition as his father shook the beautifully carved piece of wood in his face. “I’ve told you a thousand times that there will be no magic in this house, and to try and use it against me?! You’re just asking for it now!” A second hand was brought up and grasped the wand at the other end, and with an easy snap, the wand was broken and thrown to the floor.

A whimper escaped Severus against his will as he literally felt the wand he’d been using since he was a small boy die.

By the stove, Eileen sagged, tears running down her face. “My wand,” she whispered, sounding utterly gutted as she stared at the pieces of wood, one of which had a single shining strand of unicorn hair hanging out of it.

Tobias smirked in satisfaction. “Serves you right, witch, for teaching that boy about magic. You don’t need a ‘wand’ here anyway.” He focused on Severus again. “I don’t know how I haven’t managed to beat the Devil out of you yet, boy, but it’s obvious I haven’t succeeded yet. Take off your coat and shirt.”

_No fucking way. _Severus drew himself up as tall as he could, rage coursing through his veins. He could practically feel his magic crackling on his fingertips and coursing through his veins. “No. I’m an adult now. I won’t let you punish me like a child anymore.”

Tobias laughed mockingly. “You think you’re a man now? Not according to the law, and not according to me.” Smirking, he bent the fingers of one hand in a ‘bring it’ motion. “But if you think you can take me on and win, go for it.”

_Fuck, they should teach us how to fight like Muggles at school. _Severus clenched his hands into fists, copying his father.

That was as far as he got before a massive fist came flying at his head. He managed to dodge it at the last millisecond, but he only moved right into the other one.

CRACK!

A huge fist slammed into his jaw and cheek and the side of his nose, breaking the latter.

Severus’ vision went black and the momentum sent him to the floor, where his temple hit the edge of a chair on the way by.

He didn’t quite lose consciousness, because he could hear his father bellowing out laughter and his mother crying.

“So pathetic.” Severus was yanked back up onto his feet by the back of his jacket. He staggered, trying to get his bearings as he felt blood gushing down over his chin and running into his ear. His coat was ripped off of him, buttons flying everywhere, and then his white dress shirt as well, sending more buttons flying. He was shoved facedown on the little table and he could just make out the sound of a belt being whisked from its loops through the ringing in his mind. _Merlin, not again. Please not again. _

“You get ten for lying. Ten for giving your mother bacon and not myself. Twenty for however you got home so quickly since you apparently ate breakfast in Scotland not too long ago and there’s no way you should already be here by any normal mode of travel. And finally, thirty for pointing a ‘weapon’ at me.”

CRACK! the belt sang as it landed across Severus’ already very scarred back. "One."

Severus didn’t even flinch, too out of it to move. The pain hardly registered as the belt landed again and again and again, one crack every five to ten seconds or so and accompanied by a gleeful count. (His father liked to draw it out.) Eventually, as his head settled down, he felt the whipping more, but he was so used to it, he still didn’t flinch. Not that it didn't hurt, because it did like fiendfyre across his skin, but he'd trained himself to not respond to pain long ago if he could help it. He did notice when the blood ran down into his trousers, but he couldn’t be bothered to care at the small discomfort.

Through it all, his mother sobbed quietly.

Severus didn’t move when the whipping stopped some seven minutes later, hands gripping the table as he waited for the pain to fade to bearable. _I hate it here. I hate him. Hate him. HATE._

His father step, thumped away. Severus breathed in relief through his gasping mouth, eyes still closed shut as tight as he could make them. 

“Look what you’ve done, you stupid bitch! You let the porridge burn!”

CRASH! The sound of a pot hitting the wall had his eyes flying open and made Severus flinch in sympathy for his mother, which made his back scream from the sudden movement. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

“Clean that up, you ugly cow! And make me more. I’m hungry! And since the two of you have already had breakfast and wasted a whole meal’s worth of good porridge, neither of you need to eat for the rest of the day!” Severus was hauled up by his hair and turned to face angry blue eyes. “And you! Get your scrawny arse downstairs and put some coal in the furnace, it’s fucking freezing in here!”

_I hate you. I wish you'd die. _“Ye…Yes, Sir.” (The heat was only allowed to be on when it was convenient for his father.)

Severus was dropped back to the table and he bit back a groan, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of hearing him in pain.

Step, thud, step, thud, as Tobias stormed out of the kitchen and back down the hallway to the bathroom. The door was slammed with extra enthusiasm, making the walls shake.

As soon as she heard the noisy water pipes creak to life, signifying the turning on of the shower, Eileen was at Severus’ side, gentle hands helping him up and running over the unharmed parts of his face. “Oh, my baby, I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry.”

He made an aborted attempt at smiling, quickly cut off as his jaw protested, bringing up a bare arm to swipe at some of the blood dripping off his chin. “It’s okay, Mum. It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. All of this was my fault. I should have said an air cleansing spell as soon as I heard him wake up. I was stupid.”

Eileen turned around to get a towel and was quickly back, dabbing at his face. “Oh, Severus, you could never be that. You’re so smart. Smarter than anyone.”

He sort of smiled and grimaced at the same time as she started on the cut on his temple. “Thanks, Mum.” Gently shrugging out of her reach, he waved a hand in front of his face, mouthing a cleansing charm to vanish the blood. More started seeping out immediately, much to his annoyance.

“You’re wandless magic is getting even stronger,” his mother said, smiling in approval.

“I’ve been practicing,” he said, basking in her praise. “Top of the class, in fact.”

“Of course you are,” she said, beaming as he looked around for his coat, finding it by the back door.

“_Accio coat,_” he said softly, holding out a hand for it to fly into. (He didn’t particularly feel up to walking at the moment.) Digging into one of the vast and undetectable pockets he’d charmed into the coat to carry anything he thought he might need during the Christmas break, he called forth a tiny vial of essence of dittany. Putting a drop on his tongue, he immediately felt the skin on his back and temple start to knit back together. A quick breath in and an _Episkey _later, his nose was healed, if throbbing at the sudden shock.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’ve spent a lot of time healing yourself?”

Severus looked at his mother with woeful eyes. “Because I have.”

“Is it those Marauding Gryffindors you told me about? The one’s led by the boy who stole Lily?” she asked as she started another pot of porridge cooking on the stove.

“Yeah,” Severus grunted, now using a _Reparo_ on his shirt and coat to return them to rights, buttons flying back on from all over the kitchen to their proper places. “They like to practice their anti-Death Eater skills on me whenever the opportunity can be found or manipulated.”

“Lovely.”

“I thought so too.”

“And you can’t retaliate, can you?”

“Of course not. Even one little booboo and they go crying to McGonagall or Dumbledore and I’m the one in detention for a week. Merlin, I hate them.” Severus shrugged back into his shirt and started doing up buttons with a sigh.

“I don’t know how Lily could have chosen one of those bullies over you; you’re such a sweet boy. I thought she was a smart girl.”

Severus laughed ruefully. “Oh, she’s smart all right. She’s landed herself a rich pure-blood. They’re engaged now and everything.” He did a final silent cleansing charm to rid him and his clothes of any more blood before sliding his arms into his coat.

“Ohhhh, Severus. I’m sorry.” Her eyes flicked to him as she studiously stirred the porridge to keep it from sticking to the pot.

He barked out a derisive laugh. “I think I’m officially over her. There’s only so much rejection a boy can take, you know?”

“I understand.”

The water pipes in the walls went silent, meaning their time to talk freely was over.

Sighing, Severus leaned down and kissed his mother very gently on her already bruising cheek. “I’ll go fill up the furnace with more coal and then I’m Apparating to the Manor. I was going to stay till tomorrow, but I hope you understand if I don’t.”

“Of course, baby. Go. You can’t let him see you healed anyway.”

“I know.” _That's why I did it. I can't stay here any longer or I'll kill him, wand or no wand._ He glanced at the mess of blackened porridge on the wall that adjoined with the bathroom. “I wish I could clean that up for you.”

She patted his cheek softly. “It’s okay. He has to see me cleaning it up to be satisfied, you know that.”

“I know.” He walked over to the broken pieces of the wand and picked them up with regret sitting heavily in his heart, and then brought them back to her. “I’m sorry about your wand, Mum. I wish these were as easy to repair as some buttons.”

She took the broken wood and pressed it to her heart, tears shimmering in her eyes again. “It’s okay. I haven’t had the use of it for a long time anyway. It’s more sentimental now, than anything.”

“I’m still sorry.” He extracted the container of food out of his pocket again and put it on the counter for her and cast a disillusionment spell over it so she could hide it safely in a cupboard or something. “Here. For when you can.”

“Thank you, Severus.”

“I had some galleons saved up for you as well, but I guess I need them now to buy a new wand.”

“That’s okay, baby. You keep them. It’s hard for me to exchange them to muggle money, anyway.”

Knowing from experience his father would be finished shaving any second now, he kissed his mother on the cheek one more time. “I better go. I’ll be back Christmas Eve after the wedding, okay?”

She gave him a quick one armed hug. “Kay. Have fun with Lucius. Tell him congratulations for me. And give Elena my regards.”

“I will.” One last quick smile of farewell, and Severus was striding out of the kitchen. He made it to the door to the basement at the same time that the bathroom door creaked open. Severus all but flew down the stairs, slamming the door behind him with a wave of his hand.

He shoveled the coal into the old stove system the muggle way, thinking that more physical activity couldn’t be a bad thing if he ever wanted to look like more than a scrawny stick of a human. _Maybe I should take up fencing or something as well, _he thought as he shoveled._ Lucius would get a kick out of that. And it’s still considered a respectable pastime even for Wizards. And I might even look up a boxing or martial arts instructor once I’m finished with school. It sure would be nice to hold my own against Father._

_One thing’s for absolutely damn sure; I am never going to be whipped again, no matter what I have to do._

Coal stove now filled and merrily burning away, finally sending much needed heat through the ductwork in the walls, Severus gathered up the magic within him and thought very clearly about his next destination.

With a twirl and a subtle crack, his form disappeared just as the door to the basement creaked open again.

* * *

**A/N: Anyone else want to sic the Hulk or Thor or someone like that on Tobias Snape right now? Cause I do. **

**For anyone wondering why Eileen doesn’t just up and leave her abusive husband, you have to remember that she’s a disinherited witch who has no welcoming family to go back to. And perhaps, somewhere in there, she still loves the handsome soldier she thought she married so long ago. And this is 1977 in an a.u. Wizarding world that was living centuries behind the muggle world in terms of practically everything; women were still expected to stay with their spouses no matter what back then.**

**A certain piece of this chapter was hard to write, but it wanted out because it is the beginning of a rather important turning point in Severus’ life. This kind of thing is what I meant by writing a whole story about Severus’ childhood would be bloody depressing. I could do it, but I’d be a wreck by the end of it. And just to warn you, we have more dark times ahead, so prepare yourself. You're not the only ones who's waiting eagerly for Hermione to arrive and shine some light on Severus' life. We just have to get there the hard way. **

**Edit: I'm extremely grateful for all the support and comments on this very cringey chapter. To those who were confused as to why Severus didn't defend himself against his father with magic, it's because he's been conditioned since he was a toddler not to. I'm sorry if I didn't make that clear enough in the chapter. To put it bluntly, his father beat him anytime he used magic and probably his mother too because Tobias would see it as her fault that his son was 'possessed'. This kind of conditioning is something Severus would have a very hard time overcoming. **

**And just in case you were wondering, because I haven't made this clear enough either for at least one person, Severus is NOT a Death Eater… yet. :P **


	4. The End of Life

**The End of Life:**

_1998…_

Hermione stared at Harry with wide, sympathetic eyes as she saw the dawning realization in his that he'd been wrong to despise Professor Snape for so many years. Snape had been working for their side the whole time. Snape had loved Harry's mother. Snape was not entirely the foul-tempered wretch that literally every child that came through Hogwarts thought, but just a lonely man trying to survive in the crossfire of the two most powerful wizards of the last millennium.

And if what she heard was right, the bullying prat known as Draco Malfoy might actually just be a kid who had been acting out because he hated his existence of forced servitude to the Dark Lord; the threat of his mother's life constantly hanging over his head.

_Not that that excuses either of their behaviour entirely, but it makes it more understandable. _

The squeak of the door opening at the same time as a warning growl coming from behind had Hermione and the boys jolting into movement, but it was too late.

A clawed hand landed on Hermione's right shoulder, digging in unmercifully, making her scream in startled pain as it dug into something vital for the working of her arm. "Gotcha, little witch," a snarling voice breathed practically in her ear. "There's no one to save you from me this time."

_I know that voice. My nightmares know that voice._

_Greyback. Oh god. _

He snatched her wand from her almost useless hand and threw it to who knows where.

The girl shuddered in revulsion at the rancid smell radiating off her capture. Fenrir Greyback's growling voice didn't help either as it brought back memories of her time in captivity at Malfoy Manor where he'd all but raped her with his eyes; slobbering and licking his lips hungrily the entire time that she was being 'questioned' by Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry and Ron had their wands pointed at the werewolf in an instant. "Let her go!" Ron demanded.

They'd forgotten about the megalomaniac who was exiting the hut at the same time as Greyback caught them.

"Tsk tsk, Fenrir. Playing with your food already?" a hissing voice added itself to the conversation.

The boys spun and faced the new threat.

Hermione tried to pull out of Fenrir's grasp, but only tore her skin and muscles further for her trouble. He hooked his other arm around her neck and pulled her back against his chest. Her head barely reached his pectoral muscles, and she could feel him bending over her, sniffing her hair in the most disgusting way. _Please, no. I think his stench alone is going to make me ill. _

Voldemort stood in the light streaming from the hut, appearing unconcerned with the tableau just outside the door. Draco hovered on the middle step, looking torn as to what to do now. On the one hand, Harry had just saved his life from the inferno now known as the Room of Requirement. On the other, Draco had to do what his master said or suffer the consequences. She wouldn't want to be him.

"Young Potter," Voldemort said almost pleasantly. "I knew you would find me eventually. Our day of reckoning has finally arrived." He nodded civilly to a clear space near Hagrid's pumpkin patch. "Shall we?"

Harry nodded slowly, eyes wide behind his black rimmed glasses.

"Harry, no!" Hermione called, not ready to watch her best friend die.

"I have to, Mione," he said quietly, his eyes saying a final goodbye as they flicked between her and Ron.

_Please, Harry. Don't do this. _

_He has too._

_I don't care._

_Yes, you do._

Hermione gave the boy who'd been her first ever real friend the smallest possible nod of acceptance, eyes welling with tears. "I love you, Harry."

Harry smiled rather sadly. "Love you too, Mione. And you, Ron."

Ron choked on his wretched sounding, "Harry," as the boy in question turned to follow the Dark Lord, his shoulders set in a determined line.

"How touching," Voldemort mocked as he waited for Harry to stop and take up a traditional dueling pose.

And when Harry did, Voldemort had the gall to hold up a hand in a wait motion. The vile wizard turned his attention back to the hut where Draco was still standing. "It seems that your task has been taken care of for you, Malfoy. Get back to the battle and make yourself useful."

Draco gulped, grey eyes burning with fear and hatred that Hermione could only see because she was so close to him. "Yes, Sir." He flicked his eyes at her with an indecipherable expression and then spun on the spot and Apparated away.

Voldemort than glanced down at his pet snake. "Nagini, are you hungry? I see a red headed weasel that would make you a fine dinner." The snake turned its head and contemplated Ron, flickering its forked tongue on the air as if tasting him already. And just like that, she flowed across the grass back towards the hut at an astonishing rate.

"Run, Ron!" Hermione screamed, not even thinking that he might be able to take on the snake by himself and win.

For once in his life, Ron listened to her the first time and ran, throwing hexes at the snake over his shoulder as he did but losing speed and grace because of it. Not a single one hit the snake despite most of them being aimed fairly well. Instead, they all bounced off as if Nagini was shielded from harm. _Voldemort must have her under a dozen protection spells. I would too if she was my key to immortality. It's going to take more than hex to kill that snake._

Hermione whimpered as the massive snake caught up to Ron less than a quarter of the way back up the hill, twining around his feet and knocking him face first into the grass. She turned her head away, gagging, as he screamed while Nagini struck at him repeatedly, images of just how big those fangs were flooding her mind.

"Ron," she whispered brokenly, heart breaking for the loss of her friend, knowing there was no way he would survive such a vicious attack.

Greyback chuckled, grinding what felt like a beater bat against her backside, making Hermione squirm away as much as she could from the repugnant erection, tears streaming down her face unheeded when Ron's screams stopped abruptly. "Aw, was that your lover, little witch? How sad."

"Go take a flying leap off a cliff, you vile fucker." Hermione gave up all pretense at ladylike behaviour as she fought to escape her captor, not caring how much her arm hurt. She scratched and kicked. She even turned her head and tried to bite him.

The werewolf retaliated by growling and grasping her by the neck with his left hand, digging his claws in and squeezing until Hermione's vision started to dim from lack of air.

He didn't let up until she went limp in his grasp. "Give up, little bitch?"

She didn't bother to answer. All she could do was sob quietly, turning her blurry eyes back towards Harry.

That wasn't any better, it turned out.

By some unspoken signal, both boy and monster had pointed their wands at the same time and yelled, _"Avada Kedavra!" _

Brilliant green light filled the early morning dawn, blinding Hermione for a few moments. When she could see again, both Harry and Voldemort were lying motionless on the ground.

"HARRY!" The scream was ripped from her throat.

Fenrir was laughing almost hysterically as he tore at her jumper with uncaring claws, slashing her skin in the process. He threw her forwards onto the ground. She caught herself by her hands, ignoring her now screaming shoulder, and tried to scramble back onto her feet, run / crawling away for maybe two metres before a heavy form pounced on her from behind, pushing the air from her lungs and grabbing a huge handful of her overabundant hair. Trying to pull away only succeeded in rebounding her back to him. Her jeans and knickers were slashed off in an instant as he growled happily, "No one to stop me now. No one. No one."

Her bra was literally torn off of her, leaving more slashes in her skin. His filthy, dirt encrusted landed on her chest and squeezed, nails digging into the soft flesh, making her whimper and cry out incoherently.

"I like when they cry," Fenrir panted in her ear. She gagged as malodourous drool dripped down her neck. "Do it some more."

He licked her shoulder and neck in a wide swath, making her shudder. But she refused to make another sound. She refused to make this any better for the monster than it already was.

_This is not how I wanted to experience sex for the first time. Not by a longshot. _

Just after she heard the sound of a zipper being lowered and felt the vile man / beast shifting on top of her, another flash of green light surrounded her. The werewolf's weight was suddenly still and heavy, crushing the breath from her lungs.

* * *

Severus was forced to listen to and imagine whatever dreadful scenarios where taking place outside over the sluggish sound of his heart beating in his eardrums.

The flaming venom being transported through his veins had already started its paralytic work and Severus was in danger of dying in a curled up ball. Refusing to go in such a pathetic fashion, he used his willpower to command his limbs to lie himself flat out on his back.

And then a scream from Miss Granger inspired him to try a little harder. Groaning silently, he wheezed for air and rolled over, then pushed himself forward with his feet, which were working better than his hands for the moment, inching towards the doorway in what had to be the slowest and most undignified belly crawl of all time. _Thank Merlin none of the students are here to see this. _

What felt like an eternity later, she screamed again, this time Potter's name, and he still had an arm's length to go to be able to see out the doorway.

Determined that he wouldn't fail at this one last thing, knowing the best student he'd ever taught was probably being assaulted at this very moment by a werewolf that enjoyed molesting and eating children as often as he could get away with it, Severus gave one last, incredibly desperate push with his feet as he shook his wand out of the sheath strapped to his forearm.

Finally. Finally, he could see out the door into the dawn, a trembling hand on the top step barely holding him up.

The sight of Greyback's bare, hairy arse poised over a tiny and silent form was more than enough to inspire the mouthed invocation of the killing curse.

As the brilliant green light faded out, Severus was relieved to see Greyback's form lying dormant. He was still on top of Miss Granger, but Severus had nothing left with which to help her. He could only hope he hadn't been too late to save her from pain or being bitten.

With the last of his magical power and physical energy drained, his limbs feeling like unresponsive fence posts, and his supply of oxygen diminishing, Severus' wand fell from nerveless fingers. He gave up any attempt at keeping his head and upper body up, sprawling half down the stairs. _What an ignominious way to go. Please don't let any of the students see this, either. _

Somehow, Miss Granger didn't count in his plea.

* * *

Gasping for air, Hermione heaved up onto her hands and knees and shrugged the heavy body off her back. Stumbling onto her wobbly feet, she looked around for her rescuer.

All she saw was corpses.

And a snake who had already devoured half of Ron, only his jean clad legs still visible. _Oh fuck. That's wrong. Rooooonnnnn._

Overwhelmed, and sickened beyond her endurance, her stomach revolted, sending her back to her hands and knees. But there was nothing in her stomach to evacuate. She hadn't eaten anything in forever; the bit of bread and cheese she'd had for lunch yesterday already digested and no longer present.

When the dry heaves gave up wracking her body in painful ways, Hermione wiped her eyes and copiously running nose with a shredded sleeve, then climbed back onto her feet, the scraps of her jeans flopping uselessly from the waistband like a weird four piece skirt. She couldn't do anything about them, not without her wand, but she did tie her jumper together as best as she could over her bleeding breasts.

She once again looked for her rescuer and finally spotted him collapsed in the doorway of Hagrid's hut, upper body nearly draped down the steps bonelessly. _Oh Merlin!_

"Professor!"

Hermione ran to the prone man, kneeling on the bottom step and lifting his head and shoulders up, pushing him backwards with great difficulty with only one useful arm, until he was far enough back in the hut so that she could get in too. She pulled her secret favourite professor up into a sitting position by his robes against the doorframe.

"Professor?" she whispered, seeing his closed eyes, afraid she was already too late. His black robes were sticky with blood from the dripping gashes on his neck, and his already pale skin was nearly transparent. She hadn't seen him since the night he murdered Dumbledore, and she was shocked to see how much weight he'd lost. His cheekbones stood out like sharp blades above hollow cheeks and his robes hung off his broad shoulders in a loose fashion that she was sure they never had before.

"Please, Professor Snape. Wake up." Hermione had never felt so alone in her life. Her friends were gone. Her parents were lost to her; Obliviated away to Australia for their safety. Even Professor McGonagall was gone, the first to fall by Voldemort's hand when the battle started so many hours ago. She had no one.

Severus had felt the motion of movement in his head, but nothing from the neck down. He could hear her pleading voice calling to him. He wanted to open his eyes for her, but wasn't sure if there was any point; he was only moments away from death. Was there any point in getting her hopes up?

Desperate, Hermione patted his cheek tentatively, feeling the cold of death on his skin. "God, don't do this to me. Not you too," she whispered.

Severus could not bring himself to ignore the desperate plea in her voice, so with a monumental effort and a wheeze, he opened his pitch black eyes.

Hermione smiled at him in relief, pretty sure it was the first time she'd ever actually smiled at the grumpy professor who apparently lived to insult her intelligence and schoolwork. "Hi," she said inanely, thinking that might also be the stupidest thing she'd ever said to him.

_Her smile is pretty. When was the last time someone actually smiled at me? _Severus felt compelled to make an attempt at returning the gesture.

His lips actually twitched upwards.

That was a first too. At least that Hermione had ever seen.

They stared at each other for maybe half a minute, the only sound his three, pain filled, breaths.

Realizing time was short, Hermione asked, "Is there anything I can do save you?"

Knowing just how far gone he was, and that none of the potions in his pocket could save him now without the anti-venom to counteract Nagini's cursedly powerful toxin, Severus flicked his eyes from side to side in his best possible version of a head shake.

Sighing mournfully, and resigning herself to losing yet another favourite person, she asked the question that had been burning in her mind for almost a year. "Why did you kill him?"

Since speaking was undoubtedly beyond his remaining abilities now, Snape raised a brow slightly and flicked his eyes up and down her battered and bleeding body in a pointed fashion. _Merlin, that's a lot of skin showing. It has been way too long since I saw that much creamy flesh. _

_Bad Severus, _his conscience chided._ You shouldn't be looking at a student like that._

_But she's right there, and of age, the smartest witch I've ever met, radiantly beautiful even covered in blood, technically not my student since last year, and I'm fucking dying. Give me a break._

_Granted. Look your fill. Just don't let her catch you. _

_Thank you._

Blushing fiercely, remembering that she was hardly covered in way not even a desperate lady of the evening would call a decent fashion, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and double checked that a piece of her jeans was covering the important bits. "Not Greyback. I know why you did that. And thank you, by the way. Your timing was about as good as it could get."

_Thank Merlin and Circe and... Dumbledore. Why the hell not. _

Hermione smiled again when he looked relieved, as much as a pale, dying, near skeleton with pitch black hair and eyes can. "I mean Dumbledore. Why did you murder him?"

Inspired to try a little harder, Snape rolled his head from side to side a fraction or two.

"You didn't murder him?"

He shook his head again, a little more emphatically this time. And then he opened his mouth, and with a pained expression and barely a breath of air to support it, he whispered, "Dying. Mercy. Planned."

Hermione blinked as she made sense of that. "Oh," was all she could think of for a few seconds. And then she smiled at Snape for the second time ever. "That's all right, then."

His lips twitched up again. _Glad I have your approval. _

Not sure where the urge came from, Hermione reached forward and brushed a lock of his surprisingly silky hair back that was falling into his eye from his head shaking. They both froze as her finger trailed across the skin of his temple.

_Fucking Merlin's hairy arse, she's touching me! Perhaps heaven has come early? Not that I deserve it. _

_Holy hell, I'm basically caressing Snape! And I haven't been turned to stone! The rumours of a Medusa curse are entirely unfounded. So why is he so lonely? He's not that bad looking. Actually... His eyes are beautiful. They're like the deepest reaches of space, glowing with stars. How have I never noticed that before?_

_I should tell her. Maybe she can fix this. Maybe she'd let me touch her back if I wasn't dead?_

With their eyes locked together, and her trembling fingers still on his temple and cheek, Snape forced out four more words. "Fawkes. Stand. Office. Tuner."

_What? _

"You want me to go back in time? Try and fix this mess?" she asked incredulously after she made sense of the words. When he nodded with his eyes, Hermione sucked in a breath and nodded once in return. "Okay. Okay. I can do that." There was nothing left for her here anyway. She had nothing to lose by trying.

Hermione kept her eyes locked on his, and her hand on him in comfort, stroking his silky hair slowly, tears building again as she saw the light in his obsidian eyes fading and he hadn't taken a stuttered breath since his last words. Leaning forward, she whispered in his ear, "Just so you know, despite how much of an arsehole you were, you were always my favourite teacher. You were the only one who challenged me."

Severus took his last breath on an inhale of her scent of blood, female, and vanilla scented shampoo. _Definitely heaven. And you were my favourite student, too, Miss Granger._

His last sight was of a young angel, her golden brown hair surrounding her head like a halo in the lantern light, and her firewhisky eyes the kindest thing he'd seen since he'd lost Lily as his only genuine friend.

When the venom finished shutting down his body, Severus died with hope in his frozen heart and one last thought in his clever mind:

_Maybe I haven't completely failed after all, because if there is one thing Miss Granger is good at, it's succeeding at whatever she puts her brilliant mind to._

_Good luck... Hermione._


	5. And Now... Some Malfoys

**And Now… Some Malfoys:**

_1977..._

Severus landed at the front door of the elegant and massive Malfoy Manor with the quietest possible crack of apparition that he could manage, being little more than the sound of two rocks clacking softly together. He controlled his decent back into reality with an ease that many wizards would never achieve even after a century of life, not to mention still being in their first year of legal apparition use.

Severus had actually learned to Apparate at the age of eight, by accident, when he’d wished himself away from his home and to the sanctuary of the park after being locked in a dark closet for what had felt like days. He’d earned another beating for it, but Severus had found a new way to escape, so it had been worth it. That had all come to a crashing halt the summer before he went to Hogwarts for the first time and the magical trace was put on him. He’d been pathetically grateful when his seventeenth birthday finally came along so he could Apparate again.

And he put it to good use whenever possible.

The Malfoy estate wards had long ago been set to recognize him as a welcome friend, thus allowing him to bypass having to beg entrance at the gate a good half mile down the long white gravel drive. But, not being an immediate member of the family, or in the presence of an immediate member of the family, the wards forced him to land outside and he still had to knock at the door.

Said door swung open soundlessly, not daring to make an offending squeak or creak. Severus immediately cast his gaze downwards and gave the bug eyed house elf clad in only a greying pillowcase a hint of a smile. “Hello, Dobby.”

The elf bobbed and blushed and gestured with an arm. “Come in, Master Severus, come in! Welcome back!”

Severus sidled into the house, glancing up the very wide main hallway that ran from the entrance hall all the way to the back of the house to see if anyone was about. Unsurprisingly, no one had heard his knock but the elves; the mansion was HUGE after all, covering more than an acre of land and up to four aboveground floors in the many square towers, plus a couple of floors below ground that most would easily get lost in due to the dark maze of hallways and rooms and dead ends. (Severus loved it down there.) He shook his head at the tiny elf that barely reached his thighs. “Just Severus, Dobby,” he said for the three hundred and seventh time. (Yes, he was keeping a running tally for the sake of amusement to see if his words would ever sink in.) “You know I’m not the master of anyone.”

And for the three hundred and seventh time, Dobby shook his head right back as he closed the door without a sound. “The blood in your veins still says otherwise, Master Severus.”

Severus scoffed. “Little good that does me; aside from my mother, who doesn’t count, the only Prince who even acknowledges my existence is Aunt Elena. To the rest of them, I might as well be a house-elf like you, for their truly astounding ability to look right through me as if I don’t exist.”

Severus had ‘met’, if you could call it that, his relatives on a few occasions when he was here at the same time as they were, visiting his aunt. The very first time he’d seen them during a Christmas break, when he was twelve, his grandfather had only glanced at him for half a second and then proceeded to ignore him. His grandmother, after giving him a two second look of wide eyed amazement, had glanced at her frowning husband, and then never looked at Severus again. His two uncles, who were both older than their sisters and carbon copies of their black eyed and black and silver haired father (minus the silver), had also followed their father’s example. And so had their wives and children. His older cousins, who he should have met previously but hadn’t because they had all been sent to either Durmstrang or Beauxbatons - Hogwarts being considered too contaminated now that it let in half-bloods and muggle-borns thanks to Dumbledore’s rise to Headmaster, and also why the Prince name was all but forgotten at Hogwarts – had the hardest time of pretending he didn’t exist, but they managed despite their obvious curiosity.

His grandfather had made Severus feel more like insignificant dirt than anyone else ever had in his life. (His father might hate him, but at least he interacted with him.) Severus was fairly certain that he could even go so far as to perform acrobatics in front of his mother’s people and still not get a reaction. He’d actually been tempted to try and catch their attention once, but Lucius had held him back with a shake of his head. Severus knew Lucius was right; making a fool of himself in front of them and Abraxas Malfoy was a surefire way to get himself permanently evicted from the Malfoy estate.

And that would be a tragedy, because this place had all but become his home. It was the only place where he felt even remotely welcome and had never been attacked or beaten to within an inch of his last breath.

He even had a few real friends here, as the little elf by his feet demonstrated in his own uncomfortable way.

Dobby hugged Severus around the knees tightly. “You’ll always exist to us, Master Severus. You are the nicest person here to us elves. You always see us, even when everyone else does not. Sometimes even when you’re not supposed to,” Dobby added under his breath.

Severus heard him anyway and smirked slightly. It was a known fact that house-elves liked to do their work in secret and spent most of their time disillusioned while seemingly making things happen without people realizing it had been done until it already was. Perhaps thanks to his Legilimency, Severus always knew where the elves were and could usually see through their disillusionment charms with a little bit of concentration.

Severus reached down and patted the elf on top of his bald head awkwardly as he tried to casually shuffle out of the elf’s surprisingly strong grip. “Yes, and I always will, I promise,” he answered the part of what Dobby had said that he was supposed to hear. "But do you think you could let me go so I can go say hello to Lucius?”

Dobby reluctantly did as asked, wringing his hands. “Of course. Of course. Master Severus would never want to stay with such an undesirable as Dobby, anyway.”

The tall and gangly teenager somehow refrained from rolling his eyes at the familiar guilt trip that Dobby liked to lay on him at least once per visit. “You know it’s not that, Dobby. I just want to let Lucius know that I’m here, all right?”

The tiny and gangly elf of indeterminate age sighed heavily but nodded. “As is right, I suppose.”

“It is only common courtesy, Dobby. You can help me in my lab later, okay?”

The little elf brightened, practically vibrating with the prospect of being useful. “Sure, Master Severus! I like to help make potions!”

Severus' smile was somewhat forced at the prospect of the elf’s ‘help’, but it was genuine nonetheless because he liked the company. “I know you do. And it’s just Severus.” _Three hundred and eight._

“Yes, Master Severus,” Dobby said, nodding his head, his big green eyes twinkling in his now studiously solemn face.

_Cheeky wanker. He’s going to make me count to a thousand, isn’t he? At least I got him to stop calling me Master Snape years ago. _Severus snorted inelegantly. “Can you at least tell me where Lucius is so I don’t go tromping all over the manor, looking for him?”

Dobby nodded his head quickly on his spindly neck again. “Yes, he’s…” He paused as his eyes went blank for a moment, magically sensing out the location of one of his masters. “…circling the east pasture and heading back towards the stables.”

_I have a few minutes then. _“Thank you, Dobby.”

The little being beamed at receiving thanks, making the young wizard grateful once again that he could bring at least a little light to Dobby’s life of generally thankless servitude. The Malfoys weren’t what anyone would call cruel masters to the elves – they provided a warm place to sleep and food for their servants, and they never beat them – but they still had an ingrained pure-blood philosophy towards the elves that saw them as no better than the winged horses that pulled their gilt covered carriages through the skies, or carried them over the fields for a gallop.

The difference between the horses and the elves that the pure-bloods liked to overlook was that the elves were intelligent and the horses really weren’t. (Severus had yet to meet a horse that could do purposeful magic on their own or prepare a nine course meal without breaking a sweat.)

“And where are my aunt and Lord Malfoy?”

Dobby’s gaze turned inward again for another second. “The Mistress is in the east sunroom and the Master is upstairs in his study.”

Severus nodded again as he started walking down a side hallway towards the east side of the house. “Thanks again, Dobby,” he called to the air behind him. Over the years, Dobby had been instrumental in keeping Severus out of his uncle-in-law’s way, and Severus had no desire to change that; the man was even more intimidating than his own father, and that was saying something. Severus didn’t even want to think what kind of man his father would be if he had access to magic on top of his strength and terrible attitude about life.

It was a bit of a trek to the east sunroom that involved a few different hallways and passing snidely remarking portraits about his undesirable status, but when Severus arrived at the huge glass enclosed and flower filled room at the back corner of the mansion, it was worth it to see his aunt light up at his entrance.

The slender woman - exceedingly beautiful with her midnight tresses cascading down her back in soft waves, and elegantly dressed in an emerald green day gown that made her black eyes glow - was everything her older sister used to be and should still be. “Severus!” his aunt cried happily, springing to her feet in a graceful display, leaving her embroidery hovering in the air with the enchanted needle poised in mid stitch. “You’re here early!”

“Hello, Auntie,” he said warmly as he met her halfway across the room. He leaned down so she could kiss his cheek in her usual greeting without having to strain her neck and toes.

Then she stepped back and eyed him up and down, planting her hands on her hips. “I do believe you’ve grown yet again, Severus Snape.”

He hid the flinch at the use of the last name that he hated and turned it into the flicker of a woeful smile. “The hemline of my trousers would agree with you, Auntie,” he said dryly. “I had to lengthen them twice in the last few months. Thank Merlin for magic, or my ankles would have been showing. I had the same problem with the sleeves of my shirts.” He pushed the cuffs of his jacket and shirt back, showing his bony wrist, to demonstrate.

Elena laughed softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners just so. She patted his chest consolingly. “Oh, the tribulations of the young. You’ll stop soon enough and then maybe your body can put some time into adding a bit of meat to your bones. Even for a Prince, you’re still dreadfully thin.”

“As I’m all too aware, Auntie.” His dry tone increased to rival last year’s leaves. “And yes, I am eating, so don’t ask again.”

Elena pouted. “I wasn’t going to.” Her pout turned to a frown. “Why ARE you here early? The train isn’t even scheduled to arrive at King’s Cross for another half hour. Is something wrong at home?”

He shook his head quickly to allay her fears. “Nothing worse than normal, Auntie. I skipped the train ride, is all. And I was home for half an hour or so, but my father was up and we had a disagreement, so I left. I hope you don’t mind my early arrival?”

Her frown intensified for a moment as she searched his eyes, looking for hidden meanings in his words that Severus very carefully didn’t let her see; his aunt was a natural Legilimens as well but she didn’t know that he knew that she was.

The gift showed up once and only once per generation of Princes and only ever in the ones that inherited the dark colouring of the first Prince who was rumoured to be the heir to a gypsy king and died tragically before his father and thus never rose in status. Severus had always wondered what his relatives thought when none of his cousins showed any talent for mind reading. And since he’d never let on to his aunt that he could read her thoughts right back, it was possible that they thought that the gift had abandoned the bloodline.

What he did let her see was the pleasant part of his morning spent at home and talking with his mother. He let her see him shoveling coal. He let her see him standing (almost) nose to nose with his father as they argued about bacon. Everything else was buried at the back of his mind behind an impenetrable Occlumency shield he’d learned to put up all on his own after researching everything he could about it in both the Hogwarts and the Malfoy libraries back when he was eleven on his mother’s recommendation.

Aside from some unpleasantness, his Aunt Elena did not know, and would never know, just how bad his family life was.

With a soft, ‘hmmmph,’ she patted his chest once more and smiled gently. Sympathetically. “Of course I don’t mind you arriving early. You’re always welcome here, Severus. Always.”

Severus relaxed as he dipped down and kissed her soft cheek, getting a strong whiff of her lilac scented shampoo in the process. “Thanks, Auntie. I’m off to track down Lucius now.”

She turned and looked out the wall of windows that overlooked the winter garden. “He’s out there somewhere, riding.”

“Thanks. I’ll wait for him in the stables.” He didn’t bother mentioning that Dobby had already more or less told him the same thing.

Severus stepped through one of the sliding glass doors as his aunt settled back into her comfortable chair and resumed guiding her magical stitching with a waving finger. “Make sure you’re back in time for lunch, dear!” she called just before he slid the door shut.

He chuckled softly. _Always trying to feed me. _

Severus walked through one of the gardens, mostly bare of greenery this time of year, but the pathways and fountains were still beautiful. Feeling more settled within himself after his resolutions of the morning, he even enjoyed the weak sunlight that filtered through the wispy clouds as it shone upon his head. A few minutes stroll had him turning a corner around a hedge and walking out into the stable yard that encompassed acres of the Malfoy estate.

The Malfoys had always kept winged horses to use as transportation on the rare occasion that they interacted with the muggle world and the invention of the automobile hadn’t changed centuries worth of tradition and it probably never would. (As far as they were concerned, if the Queen of England could still use a horse-drawn carriage for special occasions, than so could they; they just disillusioned the horses’ wings.)

Not to mention they quite enjoyed taking their equine pets out for a spin as a recreational activity that rivaled broom riding despite not being as fast. The wind still whipped through your hair just as well, and the surge of muscles underneath you as the horse ran over the ground or flew through the sky was quite exhilarating.

Passing by a row of paddocks that each contained a shining white pureblood Pegasus happily munching on hay, some of whom raised their heads as he passed, watching him curiously, Severus approached the massive stable from the side. Going in through a side door, he passed a double row of large clean and empty stalls that the winged white horses occupied at night. There were spotless marble floors underfoot and chandeliers overhead, and the beautiful wood stalls had gilt framework, giving testimony to the sheer wealth of the Malfoy family.

He kept on walking through the barn, passing the central section and the open front doors that gave a view of the driveway that eventually led out to the country road. He passed another double row of empty stalls and went back outside to the row of paddocks that housed the black versions of the winged horse and Severus stopped at the second paddock that housed his favourite; one that Lucius had let him name when the young horse had first arrived from the breeding farm in Greece a few years ago.

“Eclipse!” he called from the fenceline.

The Pegasus’ elegant head popped up out of his manger and his long ears flicked backwards. The young stallion swished his full black tail and then dove back into his manger.

“Eclipse,” he called again, chidingly, laughing. “It’ll still be there in a minute. No one’s going to steal it while you’re gone.”

The horse raised his head again, flicked his ears backward again, turned his head around to actually look at Severus, snorted at him, and then went back to eating his hay.

Giving in to the inevitable, Severus _accioed_ an apple from his pocket that he’d saved from the breakfast table. Hiding it in the palm of his hand, he crossed his arms and leaned on the top rail of the paddock. “Would you like a treat?”

Eclipse’s head shot up again, and faster than a blink, the horse was at the fenceline and snuffling him all over, looking for his treat. Severus laughed at the horse as his soft muzzle came to a stop and waffled at his closed hand. “Smart boy.” He opened his fingers and let the horse bite half the apple off his palm. “You always were a sucker for a treat.” The horse chewed happily, drooling apple juice everywhere, then snatched the second half of the apple out of his hand. Severus rubbed his silky black forehead as Eclipse chewed and toyed with the long forelock that fell below the gentle brown eyes.

Hearing hooves walking up the driveway, Severus glanced over his shoulder and smiled. He turned back to ‘his’ horse and gave him one last pat. “We’ll go for a ride this afternoon, kay? Stretch your wings a bit?”

Eclipse snorted his acceptance of the plan and then trotted back to his hay manger.

Severus headed back into the barn and walked to the big front door. There, he propped himself up in the shadows of the doorway and watched with more than a little envy as Lucius jumped off his white horse and then strode the few steps over to the other black horse. He reached up grasped Cissa around her narrow waist as she put her hands on his shoulders, her light laughter sounding like bells. He pulled her down off her sidesaddle and directly into his arms, never letting her feet touch the ground. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he whispered something to her that Severus couldn’t quite catch as they rubbed noses. She nodded, smiling beautifully, her hands burying into the pale strands of his collar length hair.

And then they were kissing, and he was still holding her up like she weighed nothing, and they were making little pleasure noises, and Severus sighed at the realization that he’d probably never be loved like that.

And the horses were wandering away, looking for nibbles of dead grass at the edges of the fine gravel drive.

Severus pushed off the wall and retrieved the horses, grabbing their now dangling reins before they could get stepped on and accidently hurt their mouths.

If Lucius or Cissa noticed him and the horses as he walked past them and into the barn, they gave no sign of it; their blonde heads never parted for even an instant.

Severus was amused, and not even remotely surprised, having witnessed their passion for each other on a multitude of occasions over the years. He also wasn’t surprised to see her here, even though neither Dobby nor his aunt had indicated that Lucius had company on his ride this morning; Cissa was a regular visitor to the manor, probably spending more time here than she did at her own home when she wasn’t working her part-time shifts at the Ministry in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She didn’t need to work, but Cissa said she liked the challenge of verbal sparring with wizards and witches from other countries. Severus also suspected that she’d been placed there to more or less spy for Lord Voldemort, but it had never been confirmed in his hearing or within anyone’s thoughts that he’d caught.

Lucius, to all appearances, lived the leisure life of a well-to-do gentleman, but actually spent a great deal of his time assisting his father with the running of their various business interests that kept them as rich as they were.

Severus put each horse into a tack up stall which prompted the magical arrival of two elves to take care of the horses. Severus nodded his thanks to Winky and Stubby as they vanished the horses’ tack with a snap of their knobby fingers and then set some brushes to do their work with another flick of their fingers. Severus gave each (mostly) patient horse one last pat on the neck and then wandered back to the front door to meet Lucius and Cissa, who had finally deigned to part their lips from each other for a moment. (But their arms were still entwined as they walked side by side.)

The couple beamed bright smiles, showing their perfect teeth, as they met Severus in the doorway.

“Severus! Nice to see you’re still in one piece,” Lucius teased, clapping his free hand on Severus’ back.

Severus flinched slightly as his not yet healed back protested with a violent spasm; the dittany had healed the cuts, but the muscle damage and bruising was still very much present.

Ever the observant, Lucius frowned. “Or maybe not so much?”

Severus inclined his head slightly. “I’ve been better.”

“Who was it this time?”

“Does it matter?”

The Malfoy heir sighed, exchanged a knowing look with Cissa, and then shook his head. “I guess not. Not yet anyway. Bloody Gryffindors,” he added under his breath.

Severus was content to let Lucius think whatever he wanted. It was better than the truth. “My sentiments precisely.” He fell into step beside his cousin as Lucius moved towards the manor and noted with some little bit of pride that he was now decidedly taller than his friend. _Still a broomstick, but taller. _“One Gryffindor especially.”

Lucius shot him a commiserating look as they strolled casually past the paddocks of whites. “Yeah, I saw it in the morning paper. Took up the whole front page. Romantic kneel and kiss and everything. Sorry, mate.”

“It’s in the paper already?” Severus said with disgust. “That was bloody fast, considering there’s no press at the school.”

“Potter must have had it all planned out,” Cissa theorized. “If he knew he was going to ask for Lily’s hand at the Leaving Feast, then he could have had the papers on standby and had one of his cohorts taking pictures.”

“There was also a statement from James Potter’s father, Fleamont, that they are pleased as could be with their son’s choice of fiancé. There was no mention of her mu…”Lucius glanced at Severus and changed what he was going to say, knowing how that other word bothered him. “…muggle-born status, but the lack of familial ties listed on her side says it clearly enough.”

“They might as well have just openly declared themselves enemies of our Dark Lord,” Cissa said, her tone dripping disbelief as she hugged Lucius’ arm and shivered at the horror of doing such a thing. “They’re just begging for a visit from the Death Eaters with idiocy like that.”

“That’s their problem, isn’t it,” Severus stated bitterly. All of them were politely ignoring the fact that Severus used to hope that Lily would be HIS fiancé one day and how that would have affected Severus’ already questionable status. _Perhaps it was all for the best. _

“Yes, it is,” Lucius said firmly even as the snake tattoo on his left forearm tingled as if in anticipation. _Bloody thing. I swear our Lord knows everything we say from the way it acts. _That thought alone sent a chill down his spine but he determinedly ignored it. “I think a change of topic is in order.”

“Agreed,” Cissa and Severus said together, prompting them to exchange grins around Lucius.

The blond wizard chuffed in amusement. “So our new topic is… Togs!”

Cissa perked up and Severus rolled his eyes. _Here we go again._

“Our boy, Severus, here, needs to get measured for his groomsman togs, and… “ Lucius swung his free arm around Severus’ shoulders, which fortunately weren’t QUITE as sore as the rest of his back. This prompted Lucius to pause in his step as he realized he had to reach UP to do it. “Merlin’s beard, Sev, it’s a good thing I made an appointment at T&T’s for tomorrow morning; you’ve grown again!”

After hearing this for the third time in a morning, Severus could only drawl out, “So it seems.” He shrugged out from under Lucius’ arm as casually as possible. “You were saying something about groomsman togs?” he prompted, inspiring Lucius to start walking and talking again.

“Right. Togs. We have a week left until the wedding and the tailors are anxious to get their greedy little hands on you, Sev, so they can make your formal suit. I suggested they use your measurements from the last time you were in for new school uniforms, but they scoffed at that.” Lucius adopted a high nosed, haughty, and pinched expression and raised his voice a couple of octaves as he quoted, “The measurements of a teenage boy are useless, Mr. Malfoy. You should know this, considering how many times you came in for new uniforms and suits during your growing years. Now, if we were talking about a seventeen year old girl… that would be an entirely different matter.” Lucius completed his impersonation with a toss of his head that left his nose pointed even higher.

Amused, Severus frowned downwards at his flat-as-a-board chest and then crossed his eyes at his prominent nose. “I think it’s safe to say that I’m no girl. But if I were, I’d be the ugliest one ever.”

Lucius gawked at Severus’ deadpan humour for a moment before he bent over in nearly uncontrollable guffaws, hanging onto his knees. Severus leaned against a convenient bird bath with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips twitching upwards while he waited for his friend to pull himself together. Cissa smirked at her fiancé, her pale blue eyes sparkling much like her matching winter robes, as he made multiple attempts at taking a deep breath, but Lucius would take one look at Severus and lose it all over again. Occasionally a word would make its way out that more or less sounded like, ‘You’, ‘Girl’, or ‘Never’.

Some three and a half minutes later, Lucius finally got a grip on his laughter, and he sucked in air gratefully. His face was nearly red and there might have been a tear or two on his cheeks, but Severus was polite enough not to point that out.

“Merlin’s balls, Sev, don’t do that to me,” Lucius complained as they all started walking through the garden again, aiming for the huge patio and the glass doors beyond that which led into their favourite living room (one of six that the manor boasted) full of comfy furniture, various games like Wizarding Chess, and even a huge screen and muggle projector.

The Malfoy’s had a secret fondness for muggle-made movies that they would never admit to their peers. And because of their wealth, it was easy enough for them to get their hands on movies that hadn’t even been released yet in Britain, such as the insanely good space movie called Star Wars that Lucius and Severus had watched at least a dozen times that summer; the last six or so times just to drool over Princess Leia in her thin white robe-dress that left little to the imagination in the chest department. (An outfit that no respectable witch would ever be caught out of her bedchamber in.)

Severus smirked as they walked. “But I so rarely get to see you crack like that, Lucius. It’s vastly entertaining.”

Lucius shoved his shoulder playfully. “Git.”

Severus shoved back. “And proud of it.”

The happy young people filed into the huge house and shed their outer layers, flinging coats and robes onto the back of a chair. Severus sprawled (carefully) over the length of a couch and Lucius and Cissa picked another couch to share. Her legs took up most of it as she leaned back against him and he wrapped his arm around her waist in a comfortable position that they’d adopted probably a thousand times over the years, having been ‘together’ since their Third Year.

Lucius kissed the top of her head and they shared a loving look before he turned his focus back to the younger male. “I can’t help but notice that you’re here a day earlier than your note said you’d be. I would have made our appointment at T&T’s for this afternoon if I had known.”

Severus hmmmmmed in agreement. “Your powers of observation are as astute as ever, Lucius,” he said dryly.

“Care to explain?”

“Perhaps. Would you like to hear about my morning so far?”

“Of course, Sev. You always have the most fascinating tales to tell about your life.” Lucius was only partially teasing.

Severus settled in to tell an edited version of his morning that didn’t involve him getting his arse handed to him by his father. “So, as you can imagine, my morning started off about as miserably as possible, with everyone gawping over Lily’s excessively large diamond ring during breakfast…”

* * *

_Half an hour later…_

“I still can’t believe you more or less Apparated right off the train,” Lucius said, shaking his head with wide grey eyes. “I’ve never heard of anyone even thinking about trying that before.”

Severus was grateful that Lucius had picked that fact to goggle over as opposed to his fight with his father.

“I have.”

The three young people scrambled into more dignified positions at the sound of Abraxas Malfoy’s deep and slightly disapproving voice. They turned and looked behind them to the door that led to the main part of the house and found Lucius’ father leaning against it, his patrician features turned down in a stern frown, made especially obvious today because he had his long hair clubbed back; which meant he was going out for the afternoon.

_How long has he been standing there? _Severus thought in alarm.

“Father. What do you mean?” Lucius asked as the Lord of the House advanced into the room.

Abraxas tossed a plain grey circular container on the coffee table in front of Severus. The front read ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’. “I mean that I once saw a girl in an absolute snit with her boyfriend jump off the train between carriages and Apparate away when she was about an inch from crashing into the ground.”

“Bloody hell,” came out practically in sync from both young wizards.

And, “Sweet Circe,” was Cissa’s contribution in addition to all of their wide eyed looks.

“Is it anyone we know?” Lucius asked.

Abraxas’ mouth quirked up as he eyed his son. “Your mother.”

“WHAT!?”

Abraxas chuckled at the reaction.

Cissa asked the question that had instantly popped into Severus’ mind but he hadn’t the courage to vocalize, so he was grateful to her. “What did you DO to make her react like that, Sir?”

Abraxas smiled wider than Severus had ever seen him do. “It wasn’t me. It was Bartemius Crouch.”

They took a moment to process that and then Cissa changed her question. “What did HE do?”

“She caught him snogging another Fifth Year, I believe,” Abraxas answered with a smirk. “After screeching loud enough to be heard two carriages away, she turned him into a toad and then dashed off the train right in front of my eyes as I was walking out of the next carriage to see what the screech was about. I was instantly smitten, and spent the next three months convincing a supposedly soft Hufflepuff to go out with a Slytherin. Your mother was in big trouble for it, of course, because she was only fifteen at the time and Apparating at that age is illegal. They let her off the hook for turning Crouch into a toad, though, since she already had a month’s worth of detention for the Apparating.” Abraxas glanced at Severus, his expression somewhat warmer than normal. “Taking hotheaded risks apparently runs in the family.”

Lord Malfoy made himself a little taller and his face settled back into its usual stern expression as he turned to fully face Severus, interlocking his hands behind his back “It seems I may have underestimated your abilities, boy. I think it might not be as ill-advised as I originally thought to introduce you to the Dark Lord. Lucius has told me that you are at the top of all your classes and are particularly talented at potions and have invented new curses. And now I find out that you also have a talent for sneaking. Despite your blood status, our Lord might have a use for you. You shall make his acquaintance when he arrives for the wedding.”

Severus froze, eyes wide. He gulped. A squeak emerged that roughly translated into, “Yes, Sir.” _Holy shite on a cracker! _

Abraxas nodded. “Good. I will tell him of your existence when I see him this afternoon.” His chin jerked towards the doorway. “Come. It is time for lunch.” He took two steps in that direction while the younger generation still sat frozen, and then he paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Oh, and that movie arrived by owl just now. My sources say it is very good. We will watch it after dinner tonight.”

And then he swept out of the room in a graceful stride that moved quickly without seeming to, only the slight flutter of a few wisps of his tied back hair giving proof to it.

Lucius and Severus stared at each other, not even blinking, mouths slightly agape.

It wasn’t until Cissa gave a tiny snort of laughter that Severus was brought out of his trance. He swallowed his frantically beating heart back down to where it belonged. “Did that just happen?”

Lucius nodded slowly. “Yes. I think it did.”

“Merlin. I think your father just spoke more words to me now than he has in all of our past interactions.”

Lucius nodded again as Cissa giggled almost silently, her face buried in his shoulder. “I think you’re right.”

“Bloody hell, I’m going to meet the Dark Lord.”

Lucius nodded again. “Good luck with that, Sev. Truly.”

“Thanks.”

Cissa’s shoulders were still shaking.

Lucius finally noticed.

He looked down at her and touched her shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

She looked up, her eyes shining with tears and her cheeks red from trying to hold in the laughter. “Yes. It’s just…” Giggle. “Crouch…” Giggle. “I see him at the Ministry all the time, and…” She hiccupped as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief that Lucius handed her. “I’m going to imagine him as a toad every time I see him. And now I know why he kind of croaks when he talks sometimes.” Another delicate snort escaped her. “I am never going to be able to keep a straight face around him again.”

Lucius was chuckling as he kissed her on the forehead. “I have faith in you, darling. You’ll manage.”

She handed him his handkerchief back and he vanished it absently to the laundry. “I hope so, Lucius. I can’t afford to lose this job because of an attack of the giggles.”

“I could make you some calming draughts to take if you want,” Severus offered, not missing the fact that Cissa had more or less just confirmed that she worked because she had to, and it certainly wasn’t for money.

“Oh, would you?” Cissa beamed at him. “That would be wonderful.”

“Of course. In fact…” Severus pushed up onto his feet and strode over to his coat. Pulling open a pocket, he summoned a pinky sized vial. “…You could take this with you to work this afternoon.”

Cissa blinked at the bright green liquid in the vial he handed her. “Thank you, but this doesn’t look like any calming draught I’ve ever seen.”

Severus smirked. “That’s because it’s not. It’s a potion of my own design that enhances one’s ability to think clearly. It’s one of my best sellers at school, especially during testing times. You should easily be able to think beyond any urge to giggle, and you might find it useful in other ways as well.”

Lucius and Cissa stared at the little vial with much greater appreciation. “You are a scarily brilliant boy, Severus Snape,” Cissa said as she pocketed the vial. “Our Lord would be an idiot not to see how you’re worth so much more than your half-blood status.”

As they walked out of the living room and deeper into the house, Severus answered. “I sure hope you’re right, Cissa.” _Because I’m most likely dead if he doesn’t. _


	6. Fall of the Double Sided Git

**A/N: And now... We mess with Draco a little. hehe. (Worry not, aside from a few chapters, there will be no further Dramione.)**

* * *

**Fall of The Double Sided Git:**

_1998..._

Like he'd been commanded to, Draco returned to the battle, landing just by the front doors of the castle. The huge oak doors weren't doing much in the way of preventing entrance anymore, since the left one has hanging cockeyed off its bottom hinge and the right one was lying on the ground a few metres away in pieces of wooden debris like so much driftwood. There was a huge chunk of brick missing from the right side of the doorframe, indicating that whatever curse or explosion that had taken out the doors had been a very powerful one.

Draco hardly had to time to gawk, though, since he'd landed in the midst of a battle between a masked Death Eater he was ninety-nine percent certain was his Aunt Bellatrix and a tall redhead that could only be a Weasley. As he dove to the side to avoid a flashing red curse, Draco was fairly certain it was one of the twins, just don't ask him which one.

Weasley used the hanging door as a shield, which was fortuitous for him, but not so much for the door as it too exploded into flying shrapnel.

_Fuck! _Draco just managed to cast a shield before he was struck by flying bits of oak door. Turning, he snarled at his aunt, "Watch it!" and for the sake of appearances, he threw a, _"Confringo!"_ at Weasley that he was fairly confident would bounce off of his shield.

_Yep. Right again. I'm good. _

_Aren't you always?_

_Not lately, it seems._

Weasley gave a convincing scream and then had the audacity to wink at Draco. The silver blond haired boy rolled his eyes and ran on, leaving Weasley to it.

Playing both sides of the war like his Uncle Severus would have almost been fun, if it weren't for the dead seriousness of the curses being thrown between both factions of the battle, which he had to dodge and shield like mad from. (Weasley and Aunt Bella weren't the only people in the courtyard and Entrance Hall by a nautical mile.)

The cackling laughter coming from the Death Eater behind Draco confirmed her identity as she advanced in Weasley's direction, intent on checking on the state of her prey. Draco didn't stick around to see how it went, because he had his own mission in mind. His last glimpse of Weasley as he dashed towards the marble staircase was of the young man waiting in ambush behind the doorway for Bellatrix.

Draco wasn't actually sure who he was rooting for. His aunt was an evil bitch, but she was still his aunt. (Family loyalty and all that.)

As he climbed the stairs two at a time, Draco ran on adrenaline, happily allowing it to mask some of the pain in his leg from Nagini's bite. He'd apparate again, but he wasn't sure what wards were still up around his destination and didn't want to end up bouncing off them and ending up only-Merlin-knew-where. Draco was completing the second part of his cursed master's command; to make himself useful.

Except, Voldemort would never approve of the task Draco had set himself.

Draco was looking for something very sharp and very lethal with which to kill that twice damned snake. His heart was filled with sorrow and vengeance and he was determined that the snake was going to die for killing the one person in the entire world that actually understood Draco and fully supported him. _I'm going to miss you, Uncle Sev. _

Draco passed suits of armour with axes and swords in hand with barely a glance. They weren't what he needed. To get through the magical protection on Nagini, Draco needed something stronger. Something just as magical.

He needed the Sword of Gryffindor.

And that was in the Headmaster's office. He'd seen it there the last time he visited Uncle Sev.

_There's only about a thousand steps between me and there._

_Not a problem._

_Really._

_My leg isn't bothering me at all._

Draco was silently laughing at his own morbid humour when he suddenly gasped and staggered into the nearest stone wall for support. He clutched his forearm as it burned like the fires of hell and vertigo assaulted him for what felt like an eternity.

When the dizziness finally passed, he stayed in place with his shoulder against the wall and his head down while he panted in the aftermath of agony. _What the fucking hell was that? That was way too intense for a summoning. _

The sound of running footsteps heralded the arrival of large black shoes in Draco's line of sight.

"Hey, Draco, are you all right? You look a little…"

_What? Scorched? Bloody? Nauseous? Exhausted? In a world of pain? About two shakes of a wand from going barmy from the stress?_

_You must be imagining things._

_I'm still the best looking thing in this old pile of rocks._

Hiding a grimace, Draco straightened up to his full height, raising his eyes as he did so. He nearly sneered out of habit at the tall, dirty blond haired boy, wearing a patterned jumper Draco would never be caught dead in, but the gleaming silver and bejeweled sword in Neville's hand stopped him. _How the fuck did he get that? _

_Does it really matter?_

"Of course I'm all right, Longbottom, I'm just resting here because I was waiting for you."

Neville gave him a skeptical look that Draco didn't blame him one iota for. He was talking out of his arse, after all. "You were?"

Draco nodded firmly. "I was. Okay, maybe not you specifically, but a Gryffindor of any sort. I need that sword to do something important and something tells me it will work much better if a Gryffindor is wielding it."

Neville blinked at him for a few stupid looking seconds before he shrugged. "Okay. What are we doing?"

_Merlin, he's a trusting idiot. Hasn't Potter told him that I'm evil and shouldn't be trusted? Good thing I'm not actually one of the bad guys. Most of the time. _

"We're going to kill a snake," Draco said with a confident toss of his head.

Neville's face lit up. "Blimey, Malfoy. That's what I'm doing anyway. Harry told me about it and I thought of the sword and…"

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed Neville's sleeve. "Whatever." Grasping the other boy's arm firmly, he spun them into an Apparition and sent them back to the grass near Hagrid's hut.

Neville stumbled out of Draco's hold when they landed, clearly holding back the urge to vomit out of willpower alone, looking rather green. Draco hid his own dizziness, still not fully recovered from whatever that episode was a few minutes ago, and the blood trickling down into his shoe had to be affecting him as well. _I should probably do something about that._

"Merlin's pants, Draco, a little warning," Neville gasped out.

Draco just smirked at him. Then he looked around himself and found his eyes opening wide.

_What in the hell has been going on here?_

This was not what Draco was expecting.

It was worse.

And better.

Just up the hill from them, Nagini was swallowing someone, only their shoes still visible, and their body making a huge lump inside the snake's scaly form. _Ugh. I did not need to see that yet again. _

Judging by the sad state of the trainers on the person's feet, Draco was betting the latest victim of Nagini's appetite was Ronald Weasley.

With a grimace, he looked down the hill and saw Voldemort, Potter, and a half dressed Greyback all lying prone on the ground, looking quite dead.

_Holy fuck! No wonder my mark went berserk! Voldemort is dead! I do believe a dignified happy dance may be in order when next I'm alone._

_Fuck that. I'll probably do a jig on his grave. I can't believe the bastard's actually dead. _

And so was Harry and Greyback.

The first inspired a tinge of remorse, but not much; the over-glorified Harry Potter had never been his favourite person.

The second was cause for another little celebration; the wizard-turned-werewolf disgusted and scared the piss out of him. Draco had always had the feeling that Greyback would happily eat him for breakfast if the Dark Lord had allowed it. After ripping his arse apart first, of course; the monster wasn't picky as to who he buggered as long as the rear end was attached to someone under the age of twenty, and the younger, the better.

Meanwhile, Neville had been doing his own gawking. And when he spotted Potter, of course he let out pathetic, "Harry, Oh Merlin, Harry."

Draco grabbed his sleeve again to stop him from running down the hill and pointed him upwards with a little shake of a set of shoulders that might be broader than Draco's. _That's just not fair._ "You can cry over Potter later. First, you need to go kill that snake, you hear me?"

Neville stared at him with wide, teary eyes, but finally nodded.

"Good. Now, I'm going to go up there first and will distract her. You come up after me and do your best impression of a Slytherin and sneak up on her then cut off her head, okay?"

Neville just stared.

Draco shook him again. _Come on, Longbottom, grow a pair! _"Okay?"

Neville sucked in a big gulp of air. "Okay."

"Good. Let's do this."

* * *

Hermione gently closed Snape's eyes when the last glimmer of life had left them and they were staring sightlessly past her shoulder. _What a waste of a brilliant man. He had so much more to offer this world and so much life left to live. It would have been nice to get to know him for real. _

_Maybe I can do that if the Time-Turner idea works. The hard part will be convincing him to listen to a teenager. _

She sighed as she rose to her feet on unsteady legs, her knees aching from being pressed against the hard wood floor.

_Now what?_

Rubbing her aching head, woozy from stress, blood loss, shock, hunger, and probably dehydration, Hermione forced herself to think.

_First, find my wand. _

_Second, fix or change my clothes._

_Third, find the Time-Turner._

_No. I take it back. Third should be take care of myself at least a little or I'll pass out before I even get to the Time-Turner. _

_And finally, fifth, go back in time and somehow fix all this without causing any radical paradoxes. Easy. _

Grimacing at what would undoubtedly be anything but easy, Hermione carefully stepped past Professor Snape's body and out into the bright sunlight of early morning.

She was just in time to watch, in a very surprised fashion, Draco (his silver blond hair was unmistakable) and Neville, who had the Sword of Gryffindor clutched tightly in his large hand (she recognized the jumper) go up the hill one at a time.

Draco walked around to the front of a very fat Nagini, apparently taunting the snake as it tried to lunge at him, but the weight of her dinner was holding her back from moving quickly. _Merlin, he's braver than I thought. Even if Nagini is slower than normal, that's still a very risky move. _

_And there goes Neville. Ohhhhh. Be careful! _

Her hand came up to cover her gasp as Neville snuck up behind the distracted snake, and then with a lunge, he swung the sword as hard as he could, beheading the snake.

The next instant, she exploded into millions of particles of black dust, completely covering Neville and Draco, and leaving the body of Ron exposed to the world once more. _Oh, god. _

And then Draco collapsed like he'd been shot through the heart.

_Oh, Merlin! Draco! What happened to him? Was it the venom? Has he had a delayed reaction to the anti-venom? Blood loss? What?_

Hermione was running up the hill before she even knew her feet had started moving. She didn't even particularly like Draco, but Hermione had watched enough people die lately that she didn't want to add one more if she could help it.

Holding her hand behind her as she ran, she called, _"Accio Wand!"_ in the most commanding, determined voice she could muster, not sure where her wand had ended up.

A few seconds later, a familiar wand of patterned vine wood landed in her waiting fingers, and she clutched it gladly. It always felt like a piece of herself was missing when she didn't have it. And she was tired, and depleted enough from fighting and running all over creation all night, that doing wandless magic, such as fixing her clothes, just seemed like an extravagant use of whatever energy she had left.

Turns out she had a lot more magical energy left than she thought, because only a step later, another wand hit her hand, and then three more. And then a sixth and seventh came flying down the hill, aiming right for her.

Hermione stumbled to a halt and gawked at the wands now scattered around her. _Holy crap! Did I do that? How is that even possible? Don't these wands have allegiances to their owners? Or does death and poor magic become negated by superior magic?_

Leaving that question for another day for further study, she bent and gathered up all the wands and then jogged the rest of the way to Neville who was gaping at her with the biggest eyes she'd ever seen. _Is it the crazy wand trick, or the fact that I'm ninety-five percent naked?_

_I'm betting naked. _

Deciding it was best not to know for sure, Hermione simply handed Neville his cherry wood wand back with a crooked half smile. "Sorry. I didn't do that on purpose."

"Blimey, Hermione, I didn't think you had. That was bloody brilliant, though. It flew right out of my pocket."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that, so she just shrugged once, and then knelt on the ground beside Draco, putting all of the extra wands down beside her. Neville followed her and hovered above.

They were both studiously not looking at the black dust covered body of Ron, looking unnaturally stiff and gruesome.

She was happy to see that Draco's chest was still rising and falling with a normal pattern of respiration; so much more reassuring than the too few and far between breaths that Snape had been taking.

Assuming it was blood loss that had taken Draco down, Hermione murmured a quick, _"Diffindo,"_ to part the seams of his black trouser leg up past the point where the trail of sticky blood started near the inside of his thigh. It was high enough that she was given a view of the hem of his silver silk boxer shorts. She also got an eyeful of the strong looking muscles in his thigh and calf all covered in sticky red blood.

At the top of the trail of blood were two deep and gory looking fang punctures. _Nagini sure isn't nice about it, is she?_

Neville leaned over from the other side, gawking at the wounds. "Merlin. The snake got him?"

She nodded as she thought, _"Scourgify," _to clean the blood off his leg, trousers, and sock. "Yeah, earlier. Snape had anti-venom, though, so Malfoy should be okay." Focusing on the wounds, she thought, _"Episkey,"_ hoping the minor healing spell would be enough to close them. She then added, _"Reparifors,"_ in case there were any lingering paralytic effects from Nagini's magically enhanced venom. Even if there weren't, it couldn't hurt him and would be useful for any burns he may have received from the fiendfyre. (The black marks of fire's ash all over him indicated he'd been even closer than she had to being toasted alive.)

Hermione was pleased to see the deep punctures start to close in. Transferring her wand to her left hand for the moment, she dug into the pocket of her tattered jean remnants for the shrunken beaded handbag that contained all of her worldly possessions. _Thank Merlin that didn't fall out. _Returning the small purse to its usual size, she put her hand in, and pulled out a vial a moment later after commanding the essence of dittany into it.

A drop of the precious liquid was placed very carefully in each of the healing punctures, causing a bit of a sizzle as new skin started forming immediately. _Thank Circe. _

Hermione then applied the dropper to her tongue, allowing three drops to fall. She swallowed the bitter liquid as she screwed the vial closed and could feel the multiple cuts and scratches already starting to heal all over her body. A quick and silent '_episkey_,' with her wand pointed at herself gave the healing another nudge. She then put the vial away and then cast a quick spell. Hermione looped the (very recently) lengthened rope drawstrings of her purse over her head and shoulder so it sat diagonally across her body.

She almost gave in to the urge to transfigure it into something decidedly larger just so it covered more of her skin, but then Draco twitched and she turned her focus back to him, watching anxiously for more signs of life.

Draco sucked in a lungful of extra air as his eyes popped open. His leg was tingling, his left arm was strangely numb, he was flat out on the cold dewy grass, and there was a half naked wood nymph with a nimbus of insane hair kneeling above him.

_What in the name of Merlin is going on now? _

_Fuck. Is that Granger? It must be Granger. Who else has hair like that? Did Greyback do that to her clothes? Of course he did. I hope she got away before he hurt her too much. She looks really pretty with the sun shining on her like that. And blimey, that's a lot of skin showing. It looks very lickable under the blood and dirt. I sure would like a taste of all that. How come I never tried to be nicer to her? Oh, yeah, the whole muggle-born thing. Maybe Father would overlook that now that she's practically a hero. She's smart, and beautiful, and very powerful. Sounds like an acceptable bloodline to me. But geez, girl. Eat some food. There are way too many bones sticking out of your body. _

_Oh. Maybe she's starving because she's been on the run for most of the year. Uncle Sev said the Ambitious Trio had been camping in the woods to avoid getting caught. Who knows what they had to eat? Questionable mushrooms? Tree bark? Seaweed? Makes the terrible food here actually sound appealing. _

_Okay. Not really. _

_But still. We have got to get some groceries in that girl. I wouldn't mind taking a shot at winning her over to Team Draco, but I like my females to have a little more cushion between the skin and the bones. _

Hermione gasped when Draco suddenly sat up, tired of lying on the cold ground and contemplating. "Draco! You're awake!"

_No shit. And you're delightfully naked. What of it?_

She scooted back a bit, wishing she was wearing a whole lot more clothes as his grey eyes gave her a once over. Twice. "Are you feeling all right? You passed out."

_I gathered as much. _Draco dragged his eyes off her bare skin before his trousers decided to shrink. Speaking of which, they caught his attention as he looked down at his scrubbed nearly raw leg and saw the nearly healed punctures. "Yeah. I'm okay. Thanks for fixing me, Granger."

"You're welcome," Hermione responded with graciously. She ran her wand down the length of his leg and his trousers repaired themselves in mere moments.

Draco was impressed with the nonverbal magic. "What happened to me?"

Hermione shrugged, now hugging her arms across her middle to cover herself up a bit. "Don't know. I was hoping you could tell me. I don't think you lost enough blood to pass out and you seem perfectly all right now."

Draco frowned, thinking, as he rose to his feet, then offered her a gentlemanly hand as well.

Hermione raised a rather shocked brow at the elegant hand (that she was pretty sure was better taken care of than hers), considering he'd never offered to help her with anything in the entire six plus years that she'd known him, but then took it and let him pull her up.

_What did happen to me? Not the snake bite, I was feeling decent enough before Nagini went poof. Merlin, Hermione hardly weighs anything. I have brooms with more heft to them. I wonder if it has to do with killing the last horcrux? The timing certainly fits. _

Hermione and Neville watched in fascinated interest as Draco suddenly shrugged out of his black robe and tossed it at her, and then unfastened the buttons on the left cuff of his white dress shirt and pushed up the sleeve. All three of them gawked at the pale, pinkish silver, barely visible brand of the Dark Mark. The skull and snake looked like an old scar.

"He's really gone," Draco whispered in the most relieved tone Hermione had ever heard. "Thank Circe. Nagini was the last connection. The whiplash of released power must have knocked me out."

_Did all the other Death Eaters faint too? That would have brought the battle to a quick ending. I hope the others had the presence of mind to tie them up and take their wands. _

Hermione had already concluded that Draco was a Death Eater, albeit a reluctant one, but Neville hadn't a clue, until suddenly he did. He backed up quickly, nearly stumbling over Ron's body, a look of horror on his face as he stared at Draco. "You're… You're a Death Eater. How could you?"

Draco sighed as he did up his sleeve again. "Former Death Eater, thank you very much. And never by choice."

"How can it not be by choice?" Neville demanded.

Draco shot him an exasperated look. "He would have killed my mother if I hadn't. After letting everyone who was inclined have a go at her first. That a good enough reason for you?"

Neville gulped. "Yeah. That's good enough. I'm sorry."

Surprised at the apology, Draco shrugged. "It's fine. I'm just glad all this is over."

Hermione tried to hand Draco back his robe, but he shook his head. "Keep it. You seriously need it more than I do."

Now Hermione was the surprised one. _Wow, Draco actually has a nice bone in his body. Who knew? _"Thanks." She shrugged into the fine, if somewhat smoky smelling material with undertones of an pleasant spice that she realized must be Draco's scent. She was grateful for the instant warmth, not realizing until that moment that she'd been shivering. Then she cast a quick spell to shorten it so she didn't trip on the extra four inches of material at the bottom. She could have pulled her own robe out of her little purse, but the thought of wearing Draco's robe was just too much to pass up. Not that she fancied him or anything, but she wanted to bask in the manifestation of his first ever known act of generosity. It might even be worth it to put a sign on the back that said, 'Draco Lent Me This'.

Hermione nearly giggled at the imaginary reactions before she remembered the still grim situation she found herself in.

Her best friends were dead.

It didn't get any more depressing than that.

* * *

**A/N: I understand that the word 'vial' is generally spelt as 'phial' in the Harry Potter universe, but I practically flinch every time I read it because I have issues with a ph (f) sound replacing a v sound, so I just can't make myself write it. I hope you all understand and don't hate me for it. :D**


	7. Trials of Acceptability (part 1)

**A/N: This chapter is a new one! just to let my followers know. :P The next chapter will be previously released content again, but I think with a bit of new stuff added in. **

**And for those of you who are newish readers to this story, I noticed on the view counter on my fanfiction.net account that the chapter titled ‘Failure’ has been read a lot less than the other ones, so if you just started this story a few days ago, you might have missed it on this site too as I was moving the chapters around in my reformatting frenzy. :D Considering it is the first chapter of the 1998 storyline, it is kind of important. **

* * *

**Trials of Acceptability (part 1):**

_Sun, Dec 17th, 1977…_

Severus woke up the next morning to the familiar sound of a steady tapping on glass. He smiled and tossed the covers off, feeling fairly well rested, no longer sore, and nearly bouncing with both enthusiasm and trepidation for the day’s activities.

This morning, he was going to purchase his first ever wand that was his alone.

And this afternoon? He was going to meet Lord Voldemort for the first time.

Two guesses as to which thing he was most looking forward to.

As he strode over to the balcony door to let Elehootay in, his bare feet sank into the plush white carpet of his borrowed ‘guest room’ that had been exclusively his for years.

He was surrounded by luxury, from the Queen sized four poster, to the genuine Plumpton painting of a smirking knight on a proudly prancing black horse that bore a striking resemblance to Eclipse, to the attached bathroom with a tub almost large enough to swim in. It was definitely bigger than his entire bedroom back at home, that was for sure.

While Severus appreciated the fine quality of his quarters and the easy life of being waited upon by the Malfoy house elves, he never let himself grow dependent or attached to it, knowing that one misstep in the presence of the elder Malfoy would mean instant expulsion from the Manor and possibly even death if he was in a foul enough mood or the Dark Lord had commanded it.

He opened the sliding glass door and his owl waddled in with an indignant flap of her wings from where she’d been standing on the private balcony. “I’m sorry,” he said as he conjured a small, live mouse with a snap of his fingers, holding it by the instantly appearing tail. “Did I take too long to wake up?” She squawked and flew up to rest on his pajama clad forearm while she snatched the frantically wriggling apology out of his hand and downed it in one gulp.

The large eagle-owl turned her all-knowing, golden orange eyes on him, silently demanding another treat. “Fine. One more. But that’s it, you greedy thing. You know you get cranky when you don’t actually do your own hunting.” He chuckled and snapped his fingers again, producing another live mouse out of thin air. (Or maybe the magic actually found the nearest mouse and transferred it to his fingers. But that was a theory that had yet to be proven, considering everything else that wizards and witches were capable of conjuring from ‘nothing’, like a chair or fire.)

When the owl was convinced that no more treats would be forthcoming and had taken all the petting she was willing to put up with in one sitting, she flew off his arm and settled on her perch by the door for a nap.

As Severus went about his morning ablutions, he thought about the events of yesterday evening.

At dinner last night, while the family was daintily sipping pumpkin soup out of their spoons, Abraxas had suddenly looked down the long table at Severus. That piercing grey gaze had frozen him to the spot, spoon halfway raised to his mouth. And then the Malfoy patriarch had said, “I spoke to the Dark Lord about you this afternoon. He doesn’t wish to wait until the wedding to make your acquaintance, so a meeting has been arranged for tomorrow evening before dinner. Our Lord is intrigued enough to deign us with his presence, and as such, we will be hosting a small dinner party to celebrate. You, Half-blood, will be on your absolute best behaviour and do whatever the Lord wishes of you, or you will become the evening’s entertainment instead, is that clear?”

Severus wished his squeaked out answer of, “Of course, Sir,” had sounded more confident, but at least it had gotten those eyes off of him and he’d been treated as invisible again. Aunt Elena and Lucius had both given him encouraging smiles before returning to their soup as if what Abraxas had just said wasn’t alarming at all.

And then, after a five course dinner, which Severus had only picked at but had magically disappeared to save for his mum, they hadn’t gone back to the living room to watch the new movie as expected. Instead, Lucius went with his father on a ‘business matter’ that involved them donning their Death Eater masks and robes. When they came back an hour later, Lucius had found Severus in the potions lab in the cellar and had flopped down in the comfy chair he kept for just such purposes, looking even paler than normal and somewhat spent.

“What did you have to do this time?” Severus had asked as he carefully stirred a batch of merrily bubbling calming draught.

“Took care of the Potters,” came back the weary reply.

Severus had frozen momentarily before remembering that rhythmic stirring was essential or his potion would be ruined. “All dead, then?” The thought of it had made him a little sick, no matter how much he hated James Potter for stealing Lily and being a complete and total pain in his arse. The rest of the family hadn’t done anything to him, and their only crime was to support their son in his choice of bride.

Who also happened to be Severus’ original choice.

Lucius had scoffed at the question. “No. Just gave them a few good warning hexes before they Apparated away. I’m pretty sure I hit James with that toenail growing hex that you invented.”

He’d laughed, nearly forgetting to stir again. “Excellent. He’ll have a hard time snogging Lily for the next week if he’s constantly having to clip his nails to avoid wrecking his socks.”

Lucius smirked. “That’s what I thought. Anyway, once they were gone, we made our point a little more clear by burning down their mansion and putting up a Dark Mark in the sky above the decimated ruins. People will think twice before they so openly align themselves with a mudblood like the Potters did.”

Severus had ignored the word that he didn’t like anymore and instead given Lucius a more thorough once-over due to the pride he’d heard in the blond’s voice. The platinum fringe was slightly singed at the ends, and there was a hint of ash on his usually spotless black shoes. Suddenly, the older boy’s exhausted state made sense. “Holy shite, Luc! They let you control the fiendfyre, didn’t they?!” he’d blurted out.

Lucius had merely leaned forward, grinning like a cat, and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Perhaps.”

Severus had huffed. “No perhaps about it. You did.”

“All right. I did.”

“I bet your father was proud.”

Lucius had snorted as he settled back into the thickly cushioned green leather armchair. “Not so you’d notice. But our Lord did seem to be impressed that I’d passed his little test. He said my ability to control such a large amount of fiendfyre was very rare and that I’m likely to get more assignments of a similar nature.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah. I’m good with burning things. Murdering people… not so much. Just don’t tell Father. Or our Lord.”

Severus then turned the fire down under the cauldron, his potion finally turning the appropriate shade of sky blue as he’d said, “I wouldn’t.”

Lucius rose from his chair and clapped Severus on the shoulder. “I know you wouldn’t, not as long as you can help it, anyway.” The boys had exchanged looks of understanding, and then Lucius sighed. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning for breakfast, all right? I’m off to bed. I’m completely bushed.”

Severus pushed his shoulder affectionately. “Go. I have plenty here to keep myself entertained.”

Lucius had laughed, glancing around the well stocked lab as he aimed for the stairs. “And then some.”

Severus smiled at the memory as he finished putting on his shoes, and then he was leaving his room for the aforementioned breakfast.

* * *

Severus was having a great morning so far. Perhaps even one of his favourite days of his entire life.

First, breakfast had been his favourite; strawberry waffles covered in melted chocolate. (He’d eaten eight of the scrumptious things.) And Abraxas hadn’t been there, so he, Lucius, and Aunt Elena had all sat together at one end of the table and told stories about how Hogwarts had changed or was exactly the same over the course of their three different experiences at school. There’d been a lot of laughter involved in that.

Then, he and Lucius had raced to London on brooms instead of Apparating, just for the fun of it. Severus had won by a good thirty seconds.

The trip to Twilfitt and Tatting’s hadn’t taken too terribly long and Severus had really really liked the nearly all black suit that had been chosen for the Groomsmen. It started with a simple white dress shirt and black trousers, with a black embroidered waistcoat, and then topped by a knee length, high collared frock coat that had a multitude of tiny buttons from crotch to throat and up the sleeves. With the addition of a top hat to cover up his fine black hair, Severus had actually felt like a nobleman for the first time in his life (which, technically, he should have been, if not for blood prejudices). Lucius had even said he looked brilliant in it, and not quite so skinny.

And that was the generic, unfitted version. His tailored set would be delivered to the Manor sometime in the next week, since the high-end clothing shop was currently swamped with orders for Christmas balls, parties, and other celebrations such as weddings.

The Malfoy wedding was, of course, The Event of the Season.

After that, they’d browsed through a few book stores, looking for interesting things to add to the extensive Malfoy library, finding almost two dozen new books and one very well preserved first edition of a firsthand account of the Wizards vs Giants War from the early eleventh century. Then they’d stopped for ice cream at Fortescue’s despite the fact that it was only a few degrees above freezing out. Sticking with the theme of the day, Severus had a chocolate cone with strawberry sauce.

And now, finally, they were walking through the crowded streets towards their last stop of the morning.

Ollivanders.

“I still can’t believe your father broke your wand,” Lucius said as they dodged around a harried looking witch and her three brawling children, who appeared to be fighting over a toy broom.

“I can,” Severus relied, perhaps growling just a bit. “My father is a right bastard. And technically, it was my mother’s wand. We didn’t have the galleons to buy one for me back when I was eleven, and hers worked well enough for me that it didn’t really matter.”

Lucius turned and gawked at him, nearly bumping into a wizard dressed in outlandish purple robes. The other wizard shot Lucius a glare which was completely ignored. “What?! You never told me that! Your mum’s been without a wand all this time?! If I had known, I would have…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Severus cut his cousin off. “Father doesn’t let us do any magic at home anyway. And since she hardly ever leaves the house except to shop at the muggle stores, she really couldn’t have used it.”

Lucius glowered on his behalf. “Your sire really is a right bastard. I can’t imagine being cut off from my magic like that. I think I’d rather lose my sight or sense of smell.”

Severus snorted as they momentarily paused just outside the shopfront squashed in between two others, just like the entire shopping district. “I doubt you’d still say that if it really happened. But then again, there are some smells that I wouldn’t mind never whiffing again.”

“Like Filch?”

The younger male shuddered. “Merlin, yes! Does he ever bathe?”

Lucius opened the door to the sound of a little bell. “The evidence would point to the contrary. And his mangy cat isn’t much better.”

“I almost feel sorry for it sometimes. Filch’s attachment to it is just a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.”

They walked into the crowded little shop filled with rows upon rows of shelves that ran from floor to ceiling. The shelves were packed with tiny boxes, each containing a wand. Severus had never actually been in the shop before, but had looked through the windows many times with longing. Now, he was filled with wonder at the powerful hum that seemed to vibrate through him at the presence of so many magical things in one place. “Whoa,” he breathed in awe.

Lucius chuckled as a decrepit old wizard appeared from the back of the shop, looking about two centuries old. His long hair was a washed out silver that paled in comparison to the platinum locks of the Malfoy males, but his faded light blue eyes still shone with keen intelligence as they raked over the young men assessingly. Severus liked him instantly.

“Young Lord Malfoy. You haven’t lost or damaged your wand have you?” Garrick Ollivander raised a bushy white eyebrow at Lucius.

“No. No,” Lucius laughed. “My wand is fine. We’re here for my cousin. His wand was broken yesterday through no fault of his own.”

Severus practically puffed up with pride that Lucius was willing to associate himself so closely with him, despite his undesirable status. He didn't even care that it might only be because the Dark Lord now knew of his existence and it was now safer to claim Severus as family; it was still the first time Lucius had openly called him 'cousin' outside of the Malfoy estate.

Ollivander turned his attention to the somewhat taller male. “And who might you be? I’ve never seen you in my shop before.”

“Severus Snape.”

One bushy eyebrow rose. “I’ve never heard of the Snapes, but Severus, now that’s a pure-blood name. And your colouring…” the words trailed off suggestively, inviting him to fill in the blanks.

Severus flinched internally, thrusting his hurt at his parentage behind his Occlumency wall, refusing to let it show or even deign to feel it. His tone was matter of fact and emotionless as he said, “That’s because Snape is a muggle name. But my mother is a Prince.”

The bushy eyebrow rose higher. “Ah… You must be Eileen Prince’s boy, then.” Severus was grateful there was no censure in the old man’s tone. “Very good, then. But how come a gentleman at your age hasn't been in yet to buy a wand?”

“I’ve been using my mother’s wand.”

“I see. And you got along well with it?”

“Yes.”

Ollivander turned around and contemplated his shelves. “Hmmmm. Walnut with a unicorn hair core, correct?”

Severus gawked at the man. _How could he possibly remember that from thirty-six years ago? And with how many countless wands he must have sold between then and now? _“Ummm, yes.”

“Good, good. I never forget a wand, you know. Made each and every one of these myself. Well, no, that’s not true. There’s still a few holdouts from my father and grandfather’s days; wands that somehow haven’t found their match yet.” Ollivander pulled a wand box from the middle of a stack of like boxes and brought it to the front desk. “Here, try this. Same wood and core, twelve inches. Fairly springy.”

Glancing at a grinning Lucius and receiving an encouraging nod, Severus reached into the open box presented to him. He grasped the decorative handle of the slim wand… and felt… nothing. No surge of power. No sense of welcome. Just nothing. He put it back immediately. “No.”

That bushy eyebrow went back up. “Interesting. It would seem that your mother’s wand worked for you because she wanted it to, and not so much because you were well matched.” He took the box and put it back in its stack. Then he disappeared down an aisle. Severus leaned over sideways a bit to keep an eye on him. The old man was mumbling to himself indecipherably. He pulled out a box, shook his head at it, put it back, and wandered on.

Suddenly grabbing another box, he came back to the front with a bit of a spring in his step. “Here. Try this one. Ash with a thestral tail hair core. Thirteen inches and relatively supple. Not an easy core to get along with, but something tells me you’ve seen your share of trials and tribulations, even being as young as you are.”

_You have no idea, _Severus thought as he grabbed the pale brown wand with a bit of a curve to the handle. This one, he could feel the power in as it zapped his hand just a bit. He pointed it at a plain wooden chair in a corner and, with a firm picture in his mind, said the spell to transfigure it into a Great Dane.

What he got was a black poodle puppy. It bounded around the room excitedly, jumping up on Severus’s leg and looking up at him with big brown puppy eyes.

Severus frowned down at it and then sighed before picking it up and cuddling it as it licked his face madly. “This is not what I asked for at all,” he said dryly between licks. He put the wand back in the box and the puppy on the desk.

Lucius burst into laughter.

Ollivander’s mouth twitched up on one side. He floated the puppy back to the corner and turned it back into a simple chair. “Then we’ll just have to try again.”

The failed wand went back to the stack and another one appeared on the desk in its place. And another. And another.

The larch wand produced a black Scottish terrier.

The mahogany wand produced a black bulldog.

The beech wand produced a black carousel horse, of all things. Severus stared at it, appalled. _Come on! That’s not even a dog!_

The English oak wand produced a black dog plushy. Lucius nearly died from lack of air, he was laughing so hard.

The black walnut wand produced a black Labrador retriever.

The acacia wand produced a mostly black Bernese mountain dog. _Closer! Yes!_ Lucius was even able to take the time to wipe the tears off his cheeks and gasp in some proper oxygen.

Almost an hour after entering the store, Ollivander brought the ninth wand option to the desk and removed the lid. “All right. This is a bit of a stretch, as almost no one ever matches to ebony wood, but here you go. Phoenix feather core, and an unyielding twelve and a half inches.”

Severus gingerly grasped the somewhat wavy wand, instantly feeling the power in it. Almost closing his eyes in fear of what would appear, he pointed it at the poor, abused chair, and asked for a Great Dane once again.

He got a black pony. Which immediately started to gallop around the shop, neighing loudly in fright, and bouncing off shelving units and knocking down boxes helter skelter. Lucius wheezed some more, trying not to let himself laugh quite so hard as before.

“Merlin,” Severus cursed and put the wand back in its box. “Perhaps I’m not meant to have a wand.”

Ollivander shot the pony with a _Finite Incantatem _as it galloped past his desk and it turned back into a chair. A quick swirl of his wand and his shop was restored to order. Severus had the impression that the old man had cleaned up his shop thousands of times over the years. Ollivander looked at Severus reassuringly. “Worry not, Mr. Snape. There is a wand destined for everyone. We just have to find it. And… I have an idea.”

The young wizards watched curiously as Ollivander disappeared up a flight of stairs at the very back of the shop. He was gone for a solid five minutes before he came back carrying a dusty looking box that might have been black once, but was now firmly in the grey spectrum. He put the box on the desk and eased the lid off, revealing a pitch black wand that was straight as an arrow and had incredibly detailed carvings on the handle. “This, Mr. Snape, is the pride and joy of my grandfather but has never found a match in over three hundred years. It is going to take a very special witch or wizard to bond with this wand, and I’m thinking… it might just be you.”

Severus was struck speechless at the honour of even being able to try such a wand. He could feel its power already like a hum in his bloodstream and he hadn’t even touched it yet.

Lucius leaned over, studying the wand intently. “It is beautiful, that’s for sure. What is it?”

Ollivander beamed at the wand proudly. “It’s a one of a kind African Blackwood wand with a dragon heartstring core. Thirteen and a half inches and completely unyielding. It has yet to even sort of like anyone that has touched it.” He nudged the box towards Severus. “Go on then. Take it. But if you feel like your hand is burning, drop it right away. I have no desire to repair another hole in my roof like the last time someone tried it.”

“Who was that?” Lucius asked as Severus reached very slowly for the wand. It felt like his hand was moving through glue from the anticipation and trepidation at the thought of being rejected yet again.

“A very talented and strong boy named Tom Riddle,” the wandmaker replied just as Severus grasped the handle.

Power shot up his arm and through his veins, but it didn’t feel like his hand was burning per se, so he kept a hold of it. It felt like he and the wand were assessing each other for compatibility and both were pleased. Very pleased.

Lucius, meanwhile, was gawping at Ollivander like a landed fish. “Isn’t that…” his voice dropped down to a whisper. “Lord Voldemort?”

The old man nodded only once.

Severus raised an eyebrow minutely, but he was too occupied with the wand that he already knew was his to care much that it had rejected the likes of the Dark Lord. (He’d gloat over it privately later.) With a confident flick, Severus turned the chair into a black Great Dane that barked at him once before he returned it to a chair.

He smiled at the gawking faces of Lucius and Ollivander and said simply, “I’ll take it, please. How much?”

Ollivander blinked. Blinked again. Swallowed hard. “Umm. Seven galleons. Every wand in the store is seven galleons.”

Severus extracted the necessary coins from a pocket in his winter robe and handed them over. The necessary paperwork was signed to register the wand as his. The wand went up his sleeve into the holder designed for it, causing a bit of a thrill. _My very own wand! _He scooped up the box that came with it carefully, considering how old it was, and then gave the old man a grateful nod just before exiting with Lucius. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Ollivander, but I hope I never have to seek out your business again.”

The ancient wizard smiled back at the tall and gangly young wizard, finally over his shock at selling something he never thought was going to leave the family. “Agreed, Mr. Snape. Agreed.”

And thus, Severus Snape became the owner of the wand that had been affectionately coined by three generations of Ollivanders as, ‘The Black Menace.’


	8. Potter Lives Again. Goody.

**A/N: As I thought, I did end up adding a few lines here and there to this one. Close to 500 words worth in fact. :D **

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**Potter Lives Again. Goody.: **

_1998…_

Sighing at the injustice of everything that had happened to her, her friends, and the world at large over the last few years, Hermione returned to the tasks at hand. _Too much to do to let pity take over just yet. _

She started with a _'scourgify'_ on herself, instantly feeling cleaner and less tainted from Greyback's loathsome touch. (But she was still going to take an hour long, extra scalding shower when the opportunity presented itself.) She thought about doing a quick change into a fresh set of clothes, but decided against it until she could have the privacy of a lavatory or empty classroom, not wanting to entice the boys needlessly. Neville was a gentleman and would probably turn his back in embarrassment. But Draco… she could just imagine him watching her with that hungry look he'd suddenly adopted, aristocratic eyebrow raised in sardonic amusement as she fumbled underneath the robe he'd lent her to put on fresh underwear and clothes. _Yeah. That's not going to happen. _

Next on Hermione's To Do list was to make sense of all of the wands that had decided to attach themselves to her. This drew Draco's attention to them as she scooped the lot up from the ground.

"My wand!" Draco immediately dove for the brown and black hawthorn wand in Hermione's hand.

"Hey!" She tried to hang on to it, but he was decidedly stronger and definitely more determined.

A little jolt of welcome magic surged through him as his fingers closed around the end. _Merlin, I missed you too. Mother's wand was sufficient, but it really wasn't my style. _

_And… I still have to tell Mother that I lost her wand. Crap. Stupid Crabbe and his fucking fiendfyre. Still can't believe he's dead. _

_Fuck, a lot of people have died today. _

_Uncle Sev… _Draco also snatched the very unique African Blackwood wand that had belonged to his godfather from Hermione while she was still fuming, handling it with reverence and a bit of fear. The last time he’d touched Snape’s wand, it had stung his hand. Badly. Now, it just felt lifeless, like it was mourning. Which made Draco even sadder. Out of all the people left in the world, Draco and his parents were probably the only ones alive who had actually cared for Severus Snape. _You will be missed, Godfather, by myself and your wand at the very least. _

He gulped back the sob that threatened to emerge. _Don't you dare fucking cry, Malfoy. Not in front of Granger and Longbottom. _

Forcing himself to remain unaffected by putting up a half-hearted Occlumency shield between his logical mind and his emotions, which unfortunately left him coming across as disdainfully accusatory, Draco asked, "How'd you get all these, Granger?"

Hermione frowned at him fiercely, not liking his tone, as usual. "I called them by accident when I called mine. Don't know why I got the whole lot. I even got Neville's."

Draco grimaced, wondering if he’d ever learn to temper his tone before it came out of his mouth. "Don't know about Neville's, but all of these others belonged to dead people. I guess they were lonely and liked your magic." He plucked a rather ordinary looking brown one from her hand. "This is Greyback's. I'm sure you don't want that anywhere near you." _And neither do I. _

Hermione had no qualms about watching Draco snap the werewolf's wand in two, before tossing the pieces as far from himself as possible. She wasn't so sure about letting Draco have his wand back, but Harry certainly wasn't going to need it anymore, and Draco had seemed almost childlike in his joy at having the magical piece of carved hawthorn back in his hand, so she decided to let him keep it. (Not that she was certain she could get it back, anyway) As for Snape's… "No, I'm glad that one's gone, but what right do you have to Professor Snape's wand?"

Draco's lower lip actually trembled as he looked down at the black wand in his hand, making Hermione look at him in surprise. _There ARE real feelings under that mask of sneering indifference. Who knew? _

"He was my Godfather. I'll make sure it gets buried with him."

His tone was so quiet, she almost couldn’t hear him. But she certainly was surprised. "Oh." _I had no idea. No wonder Snape showed Draco so much favouritism. _She touched Draco's arm gently. "I'm sorry he's gone, Draco."

Draco met her warm, sympathetic firewhisky eyes, feeling his chest ache a bit more since his pathetic shield had already mostly failed. "Yeah. So am I," he admitted.

"Wait. Snape's dead?" Neville cut into the moment, sounding almost pleased about it.

"Yes," Hermione and Draco succinctly answered together, neither wanting to explain any further than that.

Hermione gave Neville a look that said 'drop it'.

The tall boy lowered his eyes meekly. "Oh."

Hermione still had two extra wands in her hand. One was Voldemort's, but it used to be Dumbledore's. She couldn't fail to recognize the knobby wand, having seen it often enough over the years. She was also ninety percent sure that it was the Elder Wand of legend. This one, she would keep for now, unsure what to do with such a powerful wand. She certainly didn't want it, but she couldn't think of anyone left alive that she could trust to take proper care of it.

She tucked it into a voluminous pocket of her borrowed robe for now.

The last wand was Ron's. Sort of.

The curved and wavy dark chestnut wood wand had belonged to Wormtail before Ron won it from him. It had listened to Ron well enough, but he'd vowed that as soon as he was able, he was buying a new one because this one had given him the heevie skeevies.

So she broke it and threw it just like Draco had thrown Greyback’s earlier.

It felt incredibly satisfying. (She never did like that rat and breaking his wand was cathartic in so many ways.)

Finding a reserve of inner strength, she took a good look at the corpse of Ron for the first time; and nearly gagged all over again. He'd clearly been slimed before being dusted and it wasn't pretty. Breathing deeply through her nose to settle her stomach, she knelt down beside him and cast a very thorough _'tergio'_ and _'scourgify'_ to clean him of the last remnants of Nagini. Then she carefully folded his already stiffening arms over his chest and closed his unnervingly sightless eyes with a quiet sob of misery. _Goodbye, Ron. If my mission with the Time-Turner fails, may your existence in the Afterlife be joy filled and contain a never-ending buffet, just for you._ Finally, she gave him a fond kiss goodbye on his forehead, lingering for a few seconds. _I'll see you again one day. Or really soon. _

_Please don’t hate me for hoping for the latter. _

She rose to her feet once more and gave the two boys who were looking at her with sympathetic eyes a grim and determined smile. "Right. Professor Snape gave me a new mission, and that's next on my To Do list. Who wants all of this to never have happened at all?"

"What?!"

* * *

Harry groaned like he was dying again when he woke up back in his body and found that he ached from head to toe like he'd been run over by the Knight Bus a dozen times over. He stared up at the blue sky with bleary eyes. _Merlin, who would have thought dying and then taking a trip through Limbo with Dumbledore would be so arduous? Shouldn't this be more like being born again; all fresh and new?_

_I feel about a thousand years old._

Grunting with the effort, he rolled over onto his side and then pushed himself up to a sitting position with a less than sturdy arm. The Boy-Who-Lived-Again shook his head and scrubbed his face, trying to dispel the cobwebs that had taken up residence in his brain. When that was mildly successful, he squinted at the blurry world around him, seeing nothing more than green for the grass and some rather indecipherable blobs. _Can someone please tell me why I’m still half blind? Someone has got to invent a healing spell that restores vision. Maybe I'll ask Hermione. She's smart enough to figure it out. _

Skipping the pathetic fumbling that he used to do once upon a time, Harry held out his hand and thought, _'Accio glasses'. _They flew into his hand in less than a second like an obedient puppy. He slid them on his face with practiced ease and then promptly pulled them back off again with a roll of his green eyes. _Figures. As if I could die without my lenses also being fractured. _

Wondering how many times he'd fixed his glasses over the years, since he'd lost count after his third year at Hogwarts, Harry pointed the finger of his wand hand at the round, black rimmed glasses and thought, _‘Reparo.’_

The glasses went back on his face and the first sight he was greeted with was anything but pleasant.

Not even a metre away, a bare, hairy arse was front and center. It also came with a pair of overly large, equally hairy balls displayed between the splayed thighs that had a pair of trousers hanging just above the knees. It only took him a couple of seconds to figure out that the eyeball frying image was attached to a lifeless body. He gagged. _Oh god! I am never going to unsee that. Never. _Harry quickly scrambled up onto his feet and took in the entire scene around him, spinning in a circle.

_Dead Fenrir Greyback. Dead Voldemort. Pumpkins. Dead Snape in the doorway of Hagrid's hut. Grass. More Grass. Hermione, Malfoy, and Neville standing up the hill a bit, hovering near a reclining Ron._ Harry had a terrible feeling that Ron was also dead.

The feeling was accompanied by a sense of resigned inevitability and a deep wave of sorrow. _What am I going to do without you, Ron? Hermione and I are much too serious without your happy-go-lucky ways._

Now feeling even older, Harry turned his grateful gaze (because he wasn't looking at dead people anymore) downwards to the grass near him, looking for Malfoy’s wand that he’d been using for the last week or so. _It can't have flown too far._

Unless his glasses were failing him, he couldn’t find it. _Or maybe it did._

* * *

"Yeah, Granger. What the fu… hell do you mean you can make all of this unhappen?"

Hermione smiled prettily at Draco and Neville, almost impressed that Draco had made an effort not to swear. "Snape told me where to find a Time-Turner. I'm going to go back in time and fix it so Voldemort never rises to power again."

The boys stared at her, gape mouthed. "You can do that?" Draco asked incredulously.

She gave a confident flip of her hair. "Of course. I time travelled all through Third Year so I could take extra courses. I'm sure I can pull this off too, now that I know what happens when."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the girl. _So that's how she was able to take more courses than me that year. Father was NOT happy that she exceeded me in both marks and courses taken. That's not fucking fair. _

He was about to berate her for cheating when movement at the bottom of the hill caught his eye. _What the fuck?! Is that Potter rising from the dead?_

Hermione took in Draco's stunned expression and smirked. _Finally silenced the git. It only took me how many years? _"What's wrong, Malfoy? Jealous?"

He shook his head and pointed downhill. "Potter."

Hermione spun and gasped. "Harry!" _He’s standing! Harry's alive! I should have known he couldn’t be killed! I should have known that Dumbledore wasn’t quite so willing to sacrifice him! The Horcrux in Harry’s scar must have been the thing to die, not him._

_Thank bloody Merlin._

Her best friend looked up when she called, and just like that, Hermione was flying down the hill, all of her hard earned composure lost to the shock of having him back.

Draco and Neville followed, but at a much less breakneck pace.

"Hermione!" Harry called back as he saw her running at him like a black robed banshee with long chestnut hair streaming behind her. Sensing it would be necessary, he braced for impact just in time for the small female to run right into him and wrap her arms around him, sobbing. He rubbed her back soothingly, holding her just as tight.

"Oh, Harry, I thought you were dead," she managed to gasp out between ugly, gulping sobs, tears streaming unchecked into his shoulder. "And Ron's gone. And Snape's gone. And McGonagall's gone. And so many many others. And my parents don't remember me. And that THING nearly assaulted me. And…"

Harry's heart was near to breaking just listening to her. 'Shhhhh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not leaving you. I'm here," he murmured over her babbling, holding her fragile feeling, trembling body even tighter. _Merlin, when did she get so skinny?_

Draco watched Hermione being comforted by Harry and wondered if he'd ever had that kind of close friendship with someone that had absolutely nothing to do with sex. It only took him a second to come up with the answer of, _Nope. Never. __It must be nice, though, to not have the pressure of proving yourself to someone and have unconditional love no matter what. _

_If it weren't for the fact that Potter has the Weaslette, I'd be very concerned that those two would become a thing in a very short period of time with the Weasel gone. _

_Thank Circe for the Weaslette. It means I still have a chance. _

_Uhhhhhhh. Since when did I want a chance with the Gryffindor Princess?_

_Now, apparently. _

_I must be losing it. Father would disown me if he found out, but I don’t suppose it matters anymore, though, does it?_

_The ‘good’ side won the war, which means I might not even have an estate left to inherit once they’re finished sentencing my family. And Father might not even have survived the battle. I haven’t seen him for at least an hour. _

Draco only felt slightly guilty about his apathy towards his less than loving sire’s unknown situation. He’d much rather contemplate the likelihood of talking Granger into going out with him.

It took a lot of repetitions, but eventually Harry's words sank into Hermione's conscious and she settled down to mere hiccups. He sighed into her hair, propping his chin on top of her head. "I'm sorry I scared you too, Mione."

“That’s okay,” she mumbled through stuffed up nasal passages. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

Harry met Malfoy's eyes over Hermione's head and wondered at what thoughts were going on in his pointy, scheming, head. The blond git seemed to be thinking awfully hard. _It's strange; knowing Malfoy isn't as evil as I thought. Even stranger knowing Snape was also on our side the whole time. And in love with my mother. _

_Ugh. I think I'll be avoiding that thought as much as possible from now on. _

_Do I have to be friends with Malfoy now? _

_Merlin, I hope not. _

_Maybe we can settle for non-enemies? _

Ironically, Draco was thinking pretty much the same thing.

_If I do manage to sweet-talk Granger into giving me a chance, and assuming I don’t get sent to Azkaban, does that mean I have to be friends with Potter? _

_Merlin, I hope not. That would be the total end of the world, I swear. I'd have to apply for membership to the Galumphing Heroes Club and that is never going to happen. Slytherins do NOT prance about like preening ponies. _

_Potter will just have to be happy with me not insulting him a hundred times a week. I might even be nice and tone it down to just once or twice a week. _

Hermione finally pulled herself back together, sniffing as she backed away from the comfort of Harry's arms. _God, can I get any more pathetic? I must look like a puffy eyed, red nosed, bushy haired fright. Not like I'm going to a ball with the man of my dreams or anything in the next few minutes, but still… Ugh. _She put a hand in the pocket of Draco's robe to pull her wand out to cast a quick decongestant spell to help with the excessive amount of mucus her crying had inspired, when she felt the second wand in the pocket.

_Oh. The Elder Wand. Harry would be a good keeper for it. He won't abuse the power it contains. _

She took out both wands, silently thinking the necessary words to clear her sinuses, then handed the Elder Wand to her shaggy haired and recently resurrected friend. "Here, Harry. I think you rightfully won this."

The boy gawked at the wand that he would forever associate with Dumbledore; a man who had both mentored him and thrown him to the almost literal wolves. "Uhhhhhhh. Okay?" With a slow movement, he took the wand like it was going to bite him.

It kind of did, sending a very strong jolt of power through his body that wasn't exactly pleasant but he supposed he could get used to it. _If you ignore the fact that I'm pretty sure my hair is now standing on end. Not that that's that much different from my usual hairstyle. I miss my old wand, though. I wonder if I could use this super wand to fix mine? That would make my day, no question. I'll have to try it later when there are no Malfoys around to laugh at me if I fail. _

Hermione smiled brilliantly at Harry, pleased to see that the Elder Wand hadn't done anything too dramatic to Harry when he first touched it. Funnily enough, it hadn't even made a burp when she handled it, indicating it didn't think she was even worth talking too. _Why it came to me in the first place, I have no idea. Maybe it was feeling abandoned?_ "Excellent. Now that you're sorted we can move on."

She spun on her heel and started marching up the hill with determined strides.

"Move on to what?" Harry called as he trotted to catch up to her. "Shouldn't we bring the bodies?"

Draco smirked at Potter’s back. _Case in point; one prancing pony._ The well trained Malfoy heir took long but elegant strides to keep up, with Neville also trotting along as well, bringing up the rear of the little chain of Granger followers. He decided to enlighten Potter to current events to save from having to listen to the ten hour long debriefing Hermione was more than likely to give to her friend. "Granger has this insane idea that she's going to undo all the crap we've been through the last few years by going back in time. Snape told her where to find a Time-Turner. She's probably thinking that if that works, the bodies will no longer be there to move."

Harry paused and gawked back at Malfoy for a moment before jogging to catch up again. He blinked at Hermione’s billowing robe covered back like she'd lost her mind. “You’re going to do what?!” _Of_ course_ she’s planned something so barking mad. I swear her epitaph is going to read: _

** _The Unstoppable Hermione Granger: _ **

** _The brightest Witch of her Age with barmy ideas to match that somehow always worked. _ **

** _Until the Last One._ **

Harry was already afraid this was 'The Last One'.

While Harry was imagining her tombstone, Hermione spun around and glared at Draco, walking backwards uphill. "It is not an insane idea, Malfoy. It's a brilliant one. And Professor Snape seemed to think it will work, so I'll trust that it will."

Draco almost snorted out loud. _Gullible swot. Might as well let her try, though. She'll never give it up if she doesn't. _"Fine. It's a reasonable idea," the sly Slytherin appeased the beautiful harpy. "Where is this Time-Turner, anyway?"

Hermione resumed marching forwards as she reached the first of the stone steps. "Professor Snape said that it's in the Headmaster's office. He mentioned Fawkes' stand," she called over her shoulder.

Draco raised a brow at the questionable hiding spot for a Time-Turner, but quickly corrected her. "Then you need to go down, not up. Un… Snape moved most of Dumbledore's things to the Potion Master's office since no one but he was using it and it didn't look good for him to have various Dumbledore-esque baubles in his new office. And just in case you didn’t know, Snape had been doing double duty as Headmaster and as Potions Master, which is why he had two officer. The poor man hardly had time to sleep."

"Oh." _Poor Snape is right._ Hermione mentally shrugged at the location change. "To the dungeons it is then… with a short detour to a lav."

Draco snorted quietly, exchanging a knowing look with Potter that went far beyond their enmity. They'd both realized long ago that girls were always primping and completely incapable of not using the loo before any important event. (The well pampered blond disregarded the fact that he'd spent an inordinate portion of his life in front of a mirror as well, making sure his hair was falling just right and that his robes were sitting properly on his shoulders.)

* * *

**A/N: Heevie Skeevies: A constant state of being mildly creeped out. As far as I know, I made this up. :D I liked it when I thought of it, so it's a thing now. **


	9. Trials of Acceptability (part 2)

**Trials of Acceptability (part 2):**

_1977…_

After having a few galleons left over from the morning’s shopping, since his wand had been cheaper than he’d expected, Severus and Lucius had made another quick stop at Madame Malkin’s to splurge on two sets of ready-made white cotton dress shirts and black trousers in a size that actually fit him and hadn’t been transfigured to do so. He’d also purchased a new school jumper trimmed in Slytherin green, unable to resist the half-off price tag. And Lucius (the rich bastard) had tossed into the pile a new, finely woven black robe, a black silk dress shirt, and a fitted black waistcoat with emerald green buttons as well, then paid for them before Severus could complain.

Apparently, Lucius had randomly decided that Severus needed to look decidedly more well off than he was to be able to earn the Dark Lord’s the approval.

His old school clothes (all carried in the shrunken trunk in his pocket that went everywhere with him) had then been dropped off at one of the second hand stores and earned him a galleon to make a start on refilling his now empty money pouch.

The new silk shirt looked pretty good on him (and frankly felt decadent against his skin), and with the addition of the waistcoat and the lightweight dress robe that actually billowed as he walked, Severus felt a bit less toothpick-like than he normally did. His dreadfully pale skin was at least thankfully clear of the acne that had plagued him last year, and his shoulder length, overdue for a cut, pitch black, whisper fine hair still looked half decent (aka limp but not greasy), since he hadn’t been anywhere near a steaming cauldron yet today, thanks to the delayed watching of the ‘Close Encounters’ movie after lunch.

A lunch during which Lucius had bragged to his parents that Severus had bonded to a three-hundred year old wand that was supposedly unmatchable, even to their Lord. Abraxas, being the haughty pure-blood that he was, had immediately demanded to see the wand. Severus, with some small degree of reluctance, had stood and delivered it to his uncle-in-law. Abraxas had only grasped the handle for all of two seconds before he cursed and dropped it, shaking his hand out, and declared the wand to be an ‘evil piece of work’ and that there was probably a good reason no one had ever matched to it.

Severus didn’t care. It felt perfect to him, and bravely said so.

Abraxas hadn’t been impressed but had fortunately just waved him away to finish his lunch at the other end of the table. Lucius had winked at him on the way by, having also tried the wand earlier, gotten the same result, and had known perfectly well that his father would want to see it, the mischievous git.

Now, Severus brushed his forearm where the wand was hidden up his right sleeve and double checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror one more time before heading downstairs to await his audience with the Dark Lord.

_This is pretty much as good as it gets, Sev old boy. Let’s not fuck this up, all right? _He gave his reflection a half-hearted smile of optimism and received back a very blatant roll of his own obsidian eyes. _Yeah. You’re right. This is probably my last day on Earth. At least it was a good one. At least I sent a note home with Elehootay to Mum, and as much food as I could pack into the container, so she knows not to be surprised if she never sees me again. _

_Poor Mum. _

_Father, on the other hand, will probably drink a whole case of scotch to celebrate, the cold bastard. _

_Maybe he’ll get so bleeding drunk, he’ll fall down the stairs and break his neck. Then Mum won’t have to suffer through his attentions anymore._

_If only. _

Now wearing something that definitely resembled a pained smirk at his imaginings, Severus left his room with sweeping strides that sent the new dress robe that he absolutely adored into full billow. Knowing that was not the best expression to wear for the upcoming meeting, he only just managed to school his features back into indifferent blankness by the time he arrived at the bottom of the grand staircase. But there was no one around to see, so he continued on, sweeping through the main foyer and hurried to the small parlor beside the grand drawing room, where he’d been told to wait.

Sitting in an uncomfortable, hard backed chair close to the door that connected the parlor to the drawing room, Severus proceeded to do just that.

Wait.

And wait some more.

He used the time to try and guess who was in there by the tones of the barely discernable voices as greetings were made as people arrived.

With his years of spying on Malfoy visitors as an aide, he was able to pick out the Malfoys and Cissa (of course), the Lestranges (including Cissa’s older sister, Bellatrix, who gave Severus the creeps), Cissa’s parents, the Notts, and of course, the mellifluous, yet somehow commanding tones of the self proclaimed Lord Voldemort.

And when the arrivals apparently stopped and the tones settled into the familiar rhythms of discussion, Severus closed his eyes and started building up his Occlumency shields, carefully sorting his fond memories of Lily, the humiliating abuse he’d suffered at the hands of his father, and the even more humiliating memory of James Potter using his own curse against him into the darkest and most inaccessible recesses of his mind.

At some point, Dobby appeared in the room with a barely audible pop. Severus opened his eyes and looked at the tiny house-elf inquiringly.

“They’re serving tea in the other room,” Dobby whispered. “Would you like some too, Master Severus, Sir?”

Severus contemplated the subtle roiling of his stomach for only a moment and then shook his head. “No thank you, Dobby,” he whispered back. “I couldn’t possibly drink it.”

The elf gave him a sympathetic look. “Dobby understands. The Dark Master is very powerful. And very perceptive. He sees everything. Dobby cautions Master Severus to be careful.”

The young wizard wasn’t even remotely surprised that the elf knew what was going to happen in the very near future; the house-elves were about as all-knowing as a being could get. And powerful. If they hadn’t been turned into literal slaves at some point in history and convinced that they liked it that way, the tiny creatures could be the ones the ruling the world, not the Wizards and Muggles.

“Thank you. I do intend to try my best.”

Dobby narrowed his massive, bugged out green eyes at him. “Dobby thinks Master Severus should do better than try. Dobby thinks Master Severus should simply just do.”

Severus raised a thin black eyebrow at the elf. “And Master Severus thinks that Dobby is very wise. Do, Master Severus shall.”

The elf smirked with his wide mouth, which wasn't particularly attractive. “Then Dobby’s job is complete.” A more smug whisper had never been uttered. And with that, he popped out of the room.

Chuckling under his breath, Severus settled back into the uncomfortable chair and continued to wait.

His stomach was no longer roiling.

And a cup of strong black tea that steamed gently appeared on a table beside him with a plate of chocolate covered biscuits.

_Bloody, cheeky, know-it-all elf, _Severus thought fondly as he picked up the cup.

* * *

Eventually, the pre-dinner meeting broke up and the murmur of voices in the next room filed out along with their footsteps.

And then there was only the murmur of Abraxas’ and Voldemort’s voices.

_Show time. _Severus rose to his feet and cast a quick _scourgify_ on himself to ensure that no crumbs had settled on his person. He vanished the empty dishes back to the kitchens with a wave of his hand, and then moved to the center of the small room, standing in front of a settee as if he’d been there the whole time. Consciously squaring his shoulders, he faced the door and waited patiently with his hands falling loosely down at his sides.

Their voices came closer and closer to the door. His heart picked up the pace with each passing second and his breaths became fewer and further between. A cold sweat trickled down his spine. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I’m actually doing this. _

And then the door was opening and Severus’ heart stopped along with the breath that caught in his throat.

He gulped and everything restarted as Abraxas looked him over quickly and gave the subtlest possible nod of approval. The Malfoy patriarch was looking decked out fit for an audience with the Queen, from his dragon embroidered emerald green robe over a silver waistcoat, to his long platinum hair that hung in a perfect silky curtain down to the middle of his back from the high widow’s peak above his lineless forehead.

Tradition dictated that only the patriarch of each pure-blood family was allowed to wear their hair that way, declaring their status. Not many families still followed the tradition, since long hair on a male was falling out of fashion in the muggle world (not that they acknowledged why that was the reason), but the Malfoys were probably going to continue it until the end of time just because they had beautiful hair that just begged to be shown off.

Abraxas stepped into the room and then off to the side, allowing the regal man (aka the proverbial Queen) behind him to enter. Along with him came a wash of blatant power like Severus had never felt before from a single human being. (Dumbledore being the closest in comparison.) Severus immediately fell down to one knee and bowed his head, as instructed, but he might have fallen anyway from the sheer presence of the personage before him.

“My Lord, may I present my previously unacknowledged nephew-in-law, Severus Snape?”

Severus held his breath again until shiny black shoes appeared in his line of sight.

“Rise.”

He did. But he kept his eyes slightly downcast in a show of respect, not quite meeting the powerful Wizard’s eyes.

And thus the examination began.

Severus stood tall and hopefully maintained his dignity as Lord Voldemort looked him over with a raised brow. He was hoping with everything in him that neither of the older Wizards noticed that he was trembling faintly.

The self-proclaimed Lord of Wizarding Britain, whom Severus had never actually set eyes on yet, was surprisingly dressed in a simple but obviously expensive and tailor-made for him black suit and robe that made Abraxas look like a popinjay. His features were classically handsome and his body lean and fit. By muggle standards, he looked barely thirty even though he was at least a full half-century old. He wore his thick black hair short, which meant he either wasn’t the eldest Riddle (_was that even a Wizarding name?_) or he was defying the slowly dying tradition. His hair showed the only concession to his actual age, with a hint of silver strands peppered through the black ones at both temples.

“Hmmmm. Clearly of Prince heritage, with the exception of that unfortunate nose. And a higher than average amount of magic flowing through his veins. He is certainly intriguing, if a bit scrawny.”

As Voldemort circled him and made comments about him to Abraxas as if he were examining a horse for sale, Severus couldn’t help but notice that the Dark Lord was actually a few inches shorter than himself and that helped boost his confidence, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. At his recently acquired 6’2”, Severus was now only topped by his father and Hagrid, within the circle of his acquaintances.

Inhaling slowly, the trembling in his limbs faded away, replaced by his former confidence. _Do. Not try. I can do this. _

After what felt like a year, Voldemort returned to standing in front of him but facing Abraxas. “You can go now and start dinner without me. I’ll show up at some point. Or not.”

_Just breathe. It can’t be quite as bad as it sounds, _Severus thought as he attempted to give himself a pep talk. If the returned roiling in his stomach was anything to go by, it didn’t work.

“My Lord?” Abraxas looked somewhat taken aback.

“You heard me. Make up an excuse if you must. I’m placing a floo call or whatever. I don’t care.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Abraxas bowed and left the room.

The door closed behind him with the barest flick of Voldemort’s finger.

Severus audibly gulped. The room suddenly felt smaller than a broom cupboard.

The Dark Lord turned around and smiled. It didn’t help. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, my boy,” he soothed.

“As you say, My Lord,” Severus replied bravely, still not meeting the piercing brown eyes of the other Wizard.

Voldemort chuckled and his wand appeared in his hand. He touched the tip to Severus’ chin, lifting up his head a fraction until their eyes met. He couldn’t read anything from Voldemort’s eyes. No thoughts. No images. Nothing. It was both terrifying and a relief. They stared at each other for a few charged seconds. “Such spirit. Abraxas has done nothing but praise you to me now that he’s finally seen fit to reveal that you’ve been hiding in the skirts of the Malfoys for years.”

_He's known about me all along! _Severus was so surprised, he actually gaped. And breathing was back on the optional table. The very pale yew wood wand closed his jaw for him. Severus blinked and pulled himself back together out of sheer determination only. “I’m surprised. My uncle has barely spoken to me in all those years. He was probably just spouting whatever Lucius told him.”

This time, Voldemort’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re right. Abraxas holds a very low opinion of you. Thinks you’re a waste of space and an annoyance. If his wife and son didn’t adore you, you would have been tossed out in the cold the first time you stepped into the Manor.”

_Ouch. But I knew that. _“Then I’m forever grateful for his tolerance.”

The bottomless brown eyes twinkled and the wand tapped his chin once before withdrawing and disappearing. “What a clever reply. I have a feeling you’ll do just fine in this harsh world that we live in.” His head tilted slightly. “Now, since we haven’t got all night, and I’d like to learn more about you from you, I’m going to do so from the source, if you don’t mind.”

Severus wasn’t given a chance to either agree or not before he could feel the Dark Lord diving into his mind and rifling through his memories. He offered them up freely, sensing that to protest would not go well for him.

Images flashed behind his eyes as Voldemort accessed them, flowing at random from this morning’s shopping trip all the way back to his toddler years and the first time he remembered doing magic.

He saw his years at school. His rivalry with the Gryffindor morons. His careful avoidance of his father whenever possible. His affection for his mother. Finding Elehootay as a helpless chick. Riding Eclipse through the clouds. Playing one-on-one Quidditch with Lucius. Brewing potions in both the Manor’s cellar and Hogwarts’ dungeons. Playing the buffoon for his fellow Slytherins. His joy at hearing Lucius call him cousin in front of Ollivander. His mother falling to the floor after a particularly vicious backhand from his father. Lily, shooting him a look of hatred as she walked past, fingers laced through Potter’s. Training in the Dark Arts in the woods with his mother. Reading the thoughts of his teachers to find the answers they wanted to hear. Doing more homework assignments then most would be able to stand. Apparating off the train. Surreptitiously spying on Death Eater meetings whenever they happened to occur at the Manor.

He felt the Dark Lord’s amusement at that last one.

And then he found Severus’ Occlumency shield at the back of his mind and his amusement turned to intrigue and then determination. Again, with no time to even fight back, Voldemort blasted through the shield, sending Severus down to his knees from the stabbing pain that shot through his head.

And more images flitted in front of his mind’s eye as he clutched at his throbbing skull.

Showing Lily magic in the park. Countless whippings from his father’s belt. Repeatedly begging Lily to forgive him for accidentally calling her a mudblood. Watching muggle movies with the Malfoys and feeling like he was part of a real family. The pangs of hunger as he was locked in a closet for using magic as a little boy. The time in second year that Potter had turned his hair neon yellow and hearing what had to be half the school laugh at him before he figured out what was going on.

And on and on, as Voldemort dragged every one of his vulnerabilities out of hiding and examined them in minute detail.

Wracked by emotions he didn’t want to feel, Severus curled up on the carpeted floor just waiting for it to stop. For the pain of invasion to stop. For his wretched life to stop.

And it did.

The pain, that is. And the memories.

He gasped in air, embarrassment taking over as he realized he was quivering on the floor like the pathetic child he used to be. Severus forced himself back onto his knees and bowed in obeisance before the Dark Lord. _Now I know why they follow him. He’s too strong to oppose. He didn’t even need to look at my eyes to read my mind._

“That’s right, Severus.” He flinched at the affirmation of his thought and then glanced upwards at the man towering over him. Those brown eyes were strangely sympathetic. “I don’t need to see your eyes to know what you’re thinking. What anyone is thinking. They are all pawns in my game. So easily manipulated into doing my bidding by giving them whatever they think they want the most. Abraxas loves money, so I let him manage my finances. Lucius loves flashy displays of power, so I let him show them all that he is powerful. Elena loves to entertain, so she is my hostess. Narcissa needs to feel needed, so I give her a job that means little but satisfies her craving. Bellatrix loves to torture, so I give her the ones that deserve it. Rodolphus has a taste for spilling blood, so I send him after those that need killing. And so and so forth.”

Severus rose to his feet and met those eyes unflinchingly. “I understand.”

“I know you do,” Voldemort praised. “You and I are much the same, Severus Snape. We are both sharks in an ocean of guppies.” _True. _“We were both drawn to powerful wands that wouldn’t accept anyone else.” _Interesting. _“We both have muggle fathers that despise us.” _Well, that answers the question about Riddle being a Wizard name. It isn’t. And true. _“We were both meant for great things right from the start, but people feared and despised us for our power until we chose to hide it under a mask of civility.” _Unfortunately, also true. _“You, young Severus, are like the son I never had.” _Ummmmmm…_

Severus inhaled as elegantly long fingers traced over his cheek. Everything in him was encouraging him to lean towards this man who offered him the acceptance that his own father never had. But he’d learned caution from a young age and didn’t dare believe the Dark Lord. He stepped back and away from those caressing fingers. “So you say. But that is very presumptuous of you to assume that I would ever want or trust another father figure.”

Voldemort smiled, his eyes warm with amusement. “I knew you’d say that. So I am willing to offer you a trade to prove my dedication towards your further advancement in my ranks.”

“And what is that?” the boy asked suspiciously.

“I will deal with your despicable father so that he never harms you or your mother again if you Obliviate everyone who knows the unfortunate fact that you are a half-blood Prince into forgetting that it was ever so.”

Severus froze. “Even the Malfoys?”

“Yes.” The word was almost a hiss, the way the ‘s’ was drawn out. “But you may keep your friendship with Lucius if you wish.”

_Of course, I bloody wish! He’s my only real friend! _But that thought stayed inside as he more importantly asked, “And my mother?”

“Also yes. But you know she’ll be happier for not remembering her expulsion from the Prince clan.”

_That’s probably true. _“And who will I be, then?”

“Just Severus Snape, a random wizard from a random Wizarding family who relocated to the continent a few centuries ago. You returned to England as a young boy with your widowed mother when the rest of your family died out. She married a muggle out of desperation when she couldn’t find work.”

“Oh.” _That’s an easy enough suggestion to plant, considering most people who know me don’t know fuck all about me anyway. _

“You’ll be a pure-blood, of course, but poor and insignificant.”

Severus blinked. _Not much different from how I am anyway, then._

“But not insignificant to me. You will become like my right hand. Your word will be like my own. You will be powerful and respected. And I will always protect you and your mother from those that would harm you.”

_What do I do? What do I bloody do?_

_His offer is everything I’ve always wanted for Mum. But to have Lucius forget that I’m his cousin? To have Aunt Elena forget that her sister is still out there and deny them their secret visits? _

_Is it worth it?_

_Is it worth it to never see Mum black and blue and weeping again?_

_Yes, it is._

He looked the Dark Lord straight in the eye and said, “I agree.”


	10. The Strength of a Malfoy

**A/N: At least 95% of this is new. Some of you might recognize a few lines from before, but that’s about it. I needed to expand my 1998 story arc to make it fit with how long the 1997 story arc is taking to get to the point where they meet and I'm pretty happy with the result, even if a few tissues were needed along the way. :D (That was a warning, just in case you need it spelled out. :P) **

* * *

**The Strength of a Malfoy:**

_1998…_

Hermione led the way into the castle through the same side exit that they’d used what felt like hours or days ago, and towards the nearest girls lavatory, more than a little bemused at the small herd of boys following her. She was used to leading Harry and Ron around, so this wasn’t all that different now that there were three of them. But the fact that Neville had replaced Ron was more than kind of depressing, and the even bigger shocker of having a practically amicable Draco Malfoy added to the group was almost mind blowing.

She didn’t understand how he could have changed so much in such a short time.

_How does one go from an obnoxious bully with a particularly large stick up his arse to someone who actually seemed almost likable just like that? Unless… not having the Dark Lord to worry about has finally allowed him to be more like the person he wants to be instead of the person he had to be? And maybe he’s finally seen past some of his ingrained prejudices. That would be amazing. _

_He DID lie for us back at the Manor the other day. Maybe it wasn’t just a one-off like I’d originally thought. _

Upon arriving at her intended destination, she turned to the boys as she put a hand on the door. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Draco snorted as if that was physically impossible, but Harry, at least, gave her his usual patient smile. She gave the Malfoy heir a half-hearted glower that he blithely ignored as Harry said. “Sure, Mione. Take your time.”

“That’s funny, Potter,’ Draco said with a smirk as he leaned negligently against the wall across from the washroom.

“Why?” Harry and Neville said together, both automatically indignant on Hermione’s behalf.

_They’re so sweet, _she thought as she shot them a grateful smile before answering. “Because… I’m hopefully going back in time, thus time taken now is irrelevant. You did kind of make a joke, Harry, if you take that into context. Malfoy was just exercising his wit again at your expense.”

“Malfoy,” Harry growled under his breath, glaring at his nemesis.

Draco ignored the black haired boy wonder and put a hand on his heart, his expression almost sincere as he gazed at Hermione like she was the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen. “Awwwww, Granger, you know me so well. I’m touched. Truly.”

Hermione gave him her best look of exasperation and pushed open the door. “Don’t let it go to your already overinflated head, Malfoy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he called back as she let the door slam on his smirk. “My head is perfect the way it is!”

Hermione rolled her eyes as his last words came through the door, muffled, but still understandable. _He might not be as evil as I thought, but he’s still a prat. _

After making quick and much needed use of the loo, she walked over to one of the sinks to wash her hands. Glancing up at the mirror, Hermione did a double take at her reflection with a look of horror and frantically used her wet hands to semi tame down the literal ball of frizzy, staticky insanity that her hair had become, thanks to fire, water, and a drying spell that her stubborn hair had never agreed with. _God! I look like an electrocuted lion or something! What in Merlin’s name am I going to do with this?! _

_Braid! That’ll have to do. _

She pointed her wand at her head and zapped her hair with a quick charm that set it to braiding itself. It was as she was digging through her beaded bag for a relatively clean set of clothes to put on that she realized something.

_Holy pumpkin seeds! Draco didn’t tease me about my hair! And it honestly has never looked worse. He really is growing up. _

_Astonishing._

* * *

After Hermione disappeared into the lav, the boys glared at Draco from across the hallway. Harry and Neville had taken up cross-armed guard positions on either side of the door, as if Draco might pull something despicable against their princess.

Draco pretended that he wasn’t offended at the insult to his honour for all of half a minute before it got to him, during which time, heavy silence reigned. “Ya know,” he drawled, examining his nails (which needed trimming) like what he was saying didn’t really matter. “I might be an ex Death Eater, but I’ve never been into attacking girls; you don’t have to guard the door like I’m going to be suddenly overtaken with an uncontrollable urge to deflower Granger against her will.”

Longbottom turned practically purple with embarrassment and Potter sputtered, his mouth opening and closing a few times as unintelligible sounds emerged. It was exactly the entertaining reaction Draco had been hoping for.

“You… you… you. You!” Harry finally got out. “Have you no sense of decency at all?”

Draco buffed his nails against his formerly white dress shirt, a smirk of triumph tilting one side of his mouth upwards. “Not particularly, no. I am a reprehensible Slytherin, after all. I would hate for your opinion of me to change just because we appear to be working together on something.”

The Boy-Who-Disgustingly-Lived-Again sneered. “As if that would ever happen, Malfoy. You and I will never be friends.”

“Good,” Draco sneered back, copying Potter’s cross-armed pose. “Glad we got that sorted before I ask Granger out so there are no misunderstandings in the future.”

“You will do no such thing!” Harry all but yelled, rage filling him at even the thought of Draco sullying Hermione with his slimy Slytherin self. He charged across the hallway and planted himself right in Draco’s face, Dumbledore’s wand appearing in his hand and pointed at Draco’s neck before he even really thought about it. Power coursed through him like he’d never felt before, but it hardly registered in his desire to shut down Malfoy.

Potter was almost scary looking with what Draco would almost swear were flames flickering in his green eyes and reflected in his glasses. Draco leaned forward anyway, right into the point of the wand, refusing to back down even an inch. “You can’t stop me, Potty. Not unless you’re willing to curse me here and now. And I’m not armed.” He held up his hands to show that he had no intention of drawing his own wand in self-defence. “Is that what you are now, Potty? Someone who attacks unarmed men?”

Harry growled for a moment before he backed up, his new wand disappearing up his sleeve again. “No.” He parked himself in his spot on the right side of the door again, ignoring Neville’s wide eyed look. “You’re right. I can’t actually stop you from asking Hermione out, but I’ll be very surprised if she says yes. You have never been nice to her, Malfoy, and I can guarantee that she’ll remember that.” A smile crossed Harry’s face suddenly. “In fact, go right ahead and ask her. I’m very much looking forward to watching her turn you down.”

Draco had to admit that was a possibility, but he’d done much harder things than ask a girl who probably hated him out, so he just shrugged. “If she does, she does. At least I’m willing to go after something I want instead of waffling about it for years before working up the guts.”

Awkward silence reigned as everyone realized that Draco was talking about Ron’s very obvious and much laughed about crush on Hermione. Ron, who was quite dead.

Draco cleared his throat after a minute. “Right. New subject, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry grumbled.

Neville was silent, but nodded in a, ‘For Merlin’s sake, yes!’ way.

“Soooo, I couldn’t help but notice that Granger seems rather, um, thin, right now. That’s not normal, right?”

Harry sighed, “Right. I didn’t notice till today, and that’s my fault. We’ve all been so stressed lately, and food’s been a bit… scarce. But she’s always found enough for Ron and I so we didn’t actually go hungry. I think... I think that she’s been sacrificing her own meals so that we could eat. It’s exactly what she’d do.”

“Well, I think our next move is to find some food for her before we let her try her insane time-turner plan,” Draco said firmly. “Because you know she’s going to forget about eating once she’s on a new mission.”

Potter looked at him in surprise. “I do know that, but how do you?”

Draco snorted. “I might not have been tied to her like you and Weasel, but I still have eyes. I still went to all the same classes as her, which is more than you did. I know how obsessive she can be when she gets something in her bushy head.”

“Obsessive is an understatement,” Neville muttered.

Harry couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “True.” He nodded at Draco with something resembling respect, starting to understand, whether he liked it or not, that Draco wasn’t entirely as bad as he wished he was. “We’ll go down to the kitchens next then, even if I have to pick her up and carry her, all right?”

Draco smiled. “All right.”

And on that almost friendly note, the washroom door opened and out emerged the girl in question.

She was wearing jeans and another body hugging jumper, this time in a soft lavender colour that suited her very well. Her adorably crazy hair had been sort of tamed into a thick braid and she'd put on her own black robe for extra warmth since the dungeons were colder than a freezer even in the height of summer. (The second of May most certainly didn't qualify.) The gaudily beaded purple purse was still sitting across her body with the double straps dissecting her cleavage in the most mouthwatering way.

Draco gulped and pretended he wasn't completely drooling over her, the same way he'd been doing for years if he was being completely honest with himself.

He had no idea what his father and the rest of the Death Eaters were doing right now - if they'd been captured or killed or whatever, or if they even knew that they had no one left to fight for - but at the moment, he'd put them to the back of his mind to deal with later. Right now, he was following this fascinating girl for as long as he could get away with. And she needed his help to find her time-turner, whether she knew it or not.

It did something to him to know he was actually going to be doing something useful to help the Light side of the war of his own volition and not in any way self-serving. (Killing the snake had been more about revenge for the death of his Godfather than anything. He hadn’t known it was a horcrux until it had exploded.)

* * *

Hermione glanced at her friends in surprise as she walked out, surprised to find them on either side of the door like security guards. _What are they doing? Protecting me from Draco? That’s a laugh. Draco might be a git, but he’s not a rapist. I've had to listen to practically every girl in the school gossip about him plenty over the years, from how beautiful he is to how good he is at snogging, Not a single one has said he pushed them into doing anything they didn’t ask for first. In some ways - a very few ways - he actually is a gentleman at heart. _

_Or maybe they're guarding against a possible Death Eater attack? Even though there doesn’t seem to be another soul in this part of the castle? _

_Whatever. Boys are weird. _

Said boys immediately proved her point by following immediately behind her, so close as to almost be in her personal space, as she walked across the wide hallway to give Draco his robe back that he’d so kindly lent her. "Thank you for the loaner. It was most appreciated." _Is he blushing? Nah. Must be the lighting._

“It was nothing,” Draco said softly as he accepted it, grasping the expensive fabric and smiling at her as prettily as he knew how. “I couldn’t let you freeze, could I, with how little you had left on.” _Nice view or not. _Those last words were wisely left unspoken, but he made sure his expression said them, eyes sparkling at her in appreciation and lips curved up just so.

His efforts paid off as a hint of colour swept over her somewhat more prominent than normal cheekbones.

Hermione blinked at the platinum haired boy who she’d swear upside and down was flirting with her. FLIRTING! _The world is officially off its axis if Malfoy is flirting with ME, that’s for sure. _“Well, thank you anyway,” she said, somewhat flustered at this other side of Draco that she’d only ever seen evidence of from afar as he charmed his various girlfriends.

She pulled her gaze off of his silver one and glanced at the floor, clearing her throat lightly. “Right. Next on the list is to find that time-turner so I can fix all of this.” She started walking down the hallway to the right, which would take them to the nearest set of stairs to the dungeons and the territory of the Slytherins.

Harry, who’d been watching their flirtatious interaction with a horror struck expression that was echoed on Neville’s face, pulled his wits back together and ran after his friend. “Hermione, wait!”

She turned around. “What, Harry?”

He skidded to a stop. “There’s something else that should come first, and I really must insist on it.”

A single golden brown eyebrow rose. “And what is that?”

Harry smiled a little sheepishly. “Feeding you. I know you, and I know you’ll forget to eat as soon as you get where you’re going, and I know you haven’t had anything since lunch yesterday, cause I haven’t. And it doesn’t really matter how quickly you leave. So… yeah. Feeding you.”

Hermione’s stomach rumbled enthusiastically at the mere thought of food. And now that the thought had been reintroduced, she didn’t think she could ignore the gnawing ache anymore. “All right. To the kitchens then, I suppose. I doubt they’re serving breakfast in the Great Hall like they usually would right now.” She set off back down the hallway, passing a surprised looking Harry and Neville.

“Wait, you’re not going to argue with me?” Harry called, once again trotting to catch up.

Draco was standing roughly where he’d been, robe casually folded over his arm, looking as if he was waiting for her. He fell into step beside her as if they’d never been enemies for almost seven years straight.

Hermione stifled the automatic urge to gawk at him and just shrugged as she looked back at Harry over her shoulder. “What’s the point? You’re right and I’m starving.”

“Hunh. Did you hear that, Neville? Hermione said I was right about something.”

“I know. You’d best mark that down somewhere. It might be the only time you ever hear it.”

Draco chuckled quietly and Hermione rolled her eyes at the boys' teasing. She then did her best to leave the lot of imbeciles behind in her quest to get to the kitchens as quickly as possible.

* * *

Draco allowed Granger her space and fell back a step, sensing she wasn’t exactly in love with the idea of walking beside him just yet. As they travelled towards the circular staircase that would take them down to the kitchens located under the Great Hall, which was accessed via a short hallway off of the Entrance Hall, he shrugged into his robe, catching a whiff of her flowery scent from the collar as he did so. _Oh Merlin. I am never letting the house elves wash this. _

_You're pathetic, _his proud Slytherin side bemoaned.

_Don't care._

_Then don't let Father find you snuggling with a robe._

_How stupid do I look?_

_Sometimes, like an utter moron._

_Thanks._

_But your latest decisions have been practically inspired, if I do say so myself. _

Draco eyeballed the sway of Hermione’s thick robe that hid her curves from view as she strode down the disturbingly empty (even the picture frames were devoid of their usual occupants) and occasionally battle torn hallways like a military commander instead of a well bred female. It turned him on, surprisingly. _Like having an epiphany about Granger?_

_Exactly, _his Slytherin side purred.

* * *

As she power walked down the last corridor before arriving at the Entrance hall stairs, Hermione pondered on the lack of people. So far, they'd seen exactly no one. Not even a ghost. _I suppose all of the activity could still be taking place in the Entrance and Great Halls, but surely someone would be wandering around?_

And then she turned a corner and suddenly it wasn’t so quiet anymore. What started as a murmur of voices rose to a near cacophony as their little group descended the grand staircase.

Most of the noise was coming from the open doors of the Great Hall, but some if it was from the numerous people moving around below them. Most looked like they had a purpose as they scuttled from the Great Hall to the outdoors, but others looked shell shocked as they simply wandered or talked quietly to a companion. Students, teachers, and Aurors all wore the same weary expression of a long battle that had lasted through the entire night. As they hesitated on the final stairs, two Aurors that they didn’t recognize walked in from outside, floating a couple of bodies in front of them that were either dead or unconscious. People made way for them as they moved towards the Great Hall doors.

“Looks like we missed the end,” Harry said quietly, grimacing, as they stepped down onto the stone floor.

“Yeah. But we had our own end, that’s for sure,” Neville commented back.

“Should we see what’s going on in there?” Hermione asked, tilting her chin towards the Great Hall, her curiosity warring with her stomach.

“We can after we get you something to eat,” Draco said firmly, almost, but not quite, putting his hand on her back to push her in the direction of guaranteed food.

“All right,” she said reluctantly, her stomach winning over, just, at Draco’s caring persuasion.

They only made it a few steps further, though, before Draco froze, his eyes suddenly wide and fear filled as he looked towards the Great Hall.

“What? What is it?” Hermione asked, concerned. His complexion had gone from his usual gold tinted alabaster to ashen white in two seconds flat.

“I thought I heard…” he gulped and no more words came out as they all heard it this time.

“Cissa! Noooooo! Not my Cissa too!” It was the anguished cry of a man who’d just lost everything.

“Mum,” Draco gasped, and then took off at a sprint for the nearby doorway, pushing people out of his way if they didn’t move fast enough.

Hermione and the boys followed.

Inside the Hall that was usually filled with tables and cheer, the tables were gone and in their place were rows upon rows of dead bodies and wounded, both for the Light and the Dark sides. And in one corner, a small herd of captured Death Eaters huddled, tied up and under guard.

But everyone’s attention was on the platinum haired man whose long hair was stringy with dirt and his clothes were ragged and slashed with blood trickling from several wounds. His bound hands had somehow managed to pull a blonde woman from the line of the deceased into his lap and he was huddled over her, tears streaming down his haggard face unchecked.

Lucius Malfoy looked nothing like the privileged and haughty pure-blood that Hermione knew and despised. This man was aged beyond his years from his time spent in Azkaban. And the loss of a wife that he must have actually loved had left him as nothing more than a broken shell of his former self.

In that moment, Hermione didn’t despise the elder Malfoy anymore. All she felt was pity and sympathy.

* * *

Draco fell to his knees beside his father, who was still moaning, “Cissa, my Cissa,” over and over again, tears running unchecked down his face as well. His father didn’t notice at first, not until Draco reached out a trembling hand to touch her hair tentatively. “Mum?”

But there was no answer from the limp body in his father’s arms. There wasn’t a mark on her that he could see. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully. But she wasn’t breathing.

Lucius finally looked up, blinking through the haze of tears to see his son. His beautiful, intelligent, stubborn, and oh-so-precious son. The son that he'd been forced to push away just to save him. The bitter, gaping hole in his chest that used to be his heart shrunk a fraction as a ray of relieved joy snuck in beside the overwhelming grief. He put his bound hands over his son’s startled head to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pulled him close in a desperate hug. “Draco. Oh Merlin, Draco,” he sobbed into the short hair that smelled of smoke. “I thought I’d lost you too when I hadn’t seen you for so long.”

After getting past the shock of receiving the first hug (or even any sign of genuine affection) from his father in more than decade, Draco wrapped his arms around his father in return as they shared their grief over the loss of the woman in their life that had held their family together despite the trying times that had pushed Draco and Lucius further and further apart in their opinions.

Draco had hated that his family was all but enslaved to a Dark Lord even after he was supposed to be dead, continuing on as if he were still alive, seeing to his finances and business dealings. He’d hated that his father had started acting exactly like the grandfather that had lectured him on blood ideals for hours on end when said grandfather died, as if Lucius had been possessed by Abraxas' spirit or something. He’d hated that his formerly affectionate father had turned even colder when the Dark Lord returned for real, feeling like he was no longer loved or particularly wanted. And never bloody good enough. And he’d hated the most the fact that the Dark Lord had used his parents against each other to keep them in line, threatening their lives and his mother’s wellbeing, and that his father had just seemed to accept it as the way things were.

That’s why Draco had gravitated towards his Uncle Sev. Someone he’d found out quickly was actually working for the Light side despite all appearances to the contrary. Severus Snape had been a good man, and a much stronger one than his father had ever been, as far as Draco could tell. There had been many times in the last decade when he’d wished that Severus was his real father and not just his Godfather. So many times.

But now, all of that faded away as his father’s strong arms held him again like they used to when he was little. As he whispered his name like a prayer. As they both cried over the loss of Narcissa Malfoy, a woman who would never hurt even a fly, and didn’t deserve to die in a senseless battle that she had no business being anywhere near.

_Why was Mum here, anyway? _

The thought wouldn’t leave him alone. And with it came a refreshing anger that brought clarity back to his water soaked mind. So he ducked out from under his father’s hug and swiped at the tears on his face with a sleeve, ignoring the sympathetic looks from people who passed their little island of grief amongst other, similar, islands. “Why?” he demanded of the dirty, bloody, ghost of a man that was masquerading as Lucius Malfoy, grey eyes meeting grey, both looking like thunderclouds instead of bright sliver like they did when they were happy. “Why was she here? Why did you bring her here?”

“I… I didn’t,” Lucius mumbled, as he absently rubbed at his own face with his bound hands. He looked down, trembling hands now running over Cissa’s soft blond hair in a petting motion, eyes drinking in her beautiful features for what was probably the last time. “Voldemort sent Bella to get her when you were taking too long in your quest to stop Potter from finding the last horcrux.”

Draco buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyelids closed as more tears threatened to pour out. _Merlin. This is my fault too. I can’t do anything right._

Lucius put his bound hands on Draco’s heaving shoulder in total understanding, but no blame. He told the rest of his tale with a voice that broke occasionally as a sob or shuddered breath interfered with his already strained vocal cords. “He wanted her nearby to ensure our continued obedience because he knew I didn’t want to be here either, so it wasn’t just you. I don’t know where Bella stashed her or how she ended up like this. I can only assume that Bella got distracted by something and left Cissa to her own devices. If I had to guess, your mother went looking for us and got in the way of a duel. I didn’t even know that she was… dead… until I saw someone bring her in a few minutes ago.”

Draco swallowed hard, regaining control of his emotions, and nodded. He looked up at his father, who he suddenly forgave for everything, realizing that Lucius was just as much a victim of their circumstances as he had been and that he’d paid enough with his stay in prison and the loss of his beloved. He didn’t deserve Draco’s disdain on top of everything else. “I’m sorry, Father. Sorry for all of this. But I know how to make it right again, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Taking a deep breath, Draco surged up to his feet, leaving a stunned Lucius behind as he made his way back to Hermione and her guard dogs - one of whom now had a red-haired Weaslette attached to his side like she was never going to let go -, who had all been watching quietly from nearby.

“Come on, Granger. We’ve got history to rewrite,” Draco said firmly as he approached the group of Gryffindors. “I want my Mum and Uncle Sev back.”


	11. The Death of Childhood

**A/N: Sooooo, I got the distinct impression some of you didn’t like the fact that I killed Narcissa in the last chapter. So much so that a few of you even unfollowed the story directly after reading the chapter (wince). As I told someone in a pm, I needed a way for people to see that older Lucius is still the same one we see in the past, just buried under years of servitude. Draco and Hermione needed to see it the most. Temporarily killing Cissa was the fastest and most impactful way to do that I’m afraid. Worry not, she will be back thanks to Hermione and Severus’s efforts in the past. **

**In regards to this chapter, I’m afraid the angst and tears continue, so please don’t hate me. **

**On a different note, there’s only a bit of one of the original chapters left to repost and it’s getting a huge overhaul too so it won’t be a boring read for older readers, and thus, I’ve taken down the reformatting author’s note chapter at the beginning of the story. (I think it was scaring away new readers, lol.) **

* * *

**The Death of Childhood:**

_****1977…_

Severus’ left arm was burning. Like, caught in the fires of hell, burning.

Which was in complete contradiction to the euphoria racing through his veins like an overdose of Nirvana potion. (One of his own inventions that some of the students couldn't seem to get enough of.) 

Between the two warring sensations, it was all he could do to remain upright. But his pride wouldn’t let him fall at Voldemort’s feet yet again. So he clenched his back teeth together, his screams of agony and moans of ecstasy locked away, and kept his eyes on the Dark Lord’s wand as it drew a snake and skull tattoo on the inside of his left forearm in a deliberately drawn out manner.

Lucius had warned him that getting the Dark Mark would be one of the best and worst things he’d ever experience, but Severus hadn’t really believed him.

He did now.

He’d honestly rather have the pain over the false pleasure that came with the spell. Severus didn’t like that his body was reacting without his consent. Not even a little bit. He could see how some people would prefer to get their Mark with the continuous waves of nearly orgasmic bliss to blunt the pain of the soul-deep tattoo, but he was not one of them.

Not. At. All.

So he kept his eyes firmly affixed on the wand and his teeth gritted and he concentrated with every ounce of his being on focusing on the pain and bringing it the foreground.

He almost smiled in triumph when he felt the false pleasure in his veins fade away as his willpower overrode the spell, but his teeth were still glued together, so it was more of a grimace.

Either way, Lord Voldemort noticed and his gaze flew up to meet Severus’. His tattooing spell froze and a single eyebrow rose nearly to his hairline. “Interesting,” the Wizard hissed. “Very interesting. No one’s ever done that before.”

Severus’ smile turned a little more real as the fiery pain eased for a moment. His black eyes gleamed with pride but his tone, under the circumstances, was as apologetic as he could make it as he said, “Is that a problem, My Lord?”

Their eyes locked in a momentary battle of wills that Severus wisely let the older man win when Voldemort’s eyes narrowed in warning. He dropped his gaze meekly and he was rewarded with an approving smile. “No. It’s not a problem. You’re control of your magic and emotions is very rare for one so young. Indeed, for almost anyone, actually. I’ll finish this as quickly as possible, then, since you are choosing not to enlist the aid of the distraction spell.”

“That’s fine, My Lord. Thank you.”

And so Voldemort returned to his task of marking Severus as one of his favoured followers, but he finished the last half of the tattoo in a tenth of the time that the first half had taken, proving to the young man that the Dark Lord had wanted Severus to be in pleasure / pain for as long as possible.

As Severus rolled his sleeve back down over the black, screaming, pulsing, and writhing tattoo, he thought, _Most likely to help cement his hold on his followers to leave them with a lasting impression of power like they’d never felt before. A clever gimmick that I know for a fact works on practically everyone. They all follow him without question. _

“That’s right, they do,” Voldemort said as he tucked his wand away, steel blue gaze locking on Severus’ again. “You’re thoughts are quite refreshing, Severus. You see everything so clearly. I look forward to your insights in the future. I feel you will be a great asset to myself and our cause.” He tilted his head, lips pursed, as he thought for a moment. And then his expression lit up like he’d just thought of the best thing. Severus elected to not even try and guess what that could be, since his thoughts weren’t as private as he’d like them to be.

Yet.

While keeping his focus on his Lord’s words, in the very back of his mind, a secret resolution burbled to life; he would learn how to keep his thoughts to himself or die trying.

Voldemort smiled at Severus like he was granting him the best of gifts. “I think I will have you be my own personal spy. You are ideally suited to the task with your Legilimency and disillusionment skills.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” Severus said, chest inflating with pride. “And who would you have me spy on? The Minister of Magic? Dumbledore?”

Voldemort chuckled lowly, eyes crinkling in the corners with genuine amusement. “So ambitious. No, Severus. Those two don’t need spying on anymore than they already are. What I think you’ll be perfect for is to spy on my own followers. I know Dumbledore has at least two or three of his people planted in my lower ranks, but I just don’t have time to interview everyone. Also, I want to know if any of my supporters are having any seditious thoughts. They’ll be much more likely to talk or think these things when I am not present.”

Severus blinked only once before he bowed his head in acceptance. “I am honoured to do this for you. Thank you for entrusting me with such an important task.”

He put a hand on Severus’ bony shoulder for a few seconds, smiling gently. “It is nothing more than you deserve, Severus.” His hands went behind his back as his smile transformed into a smirk. “Of course, we can’t introduce you as my new personal spy, so I think you’ll need a front, and what better than that of our very own Potions Master? How does that sound to you?”

Severus gulped down the sudden well of emotion at how perfect this was turning out to be; he’d always wanted to be a Potions Master and make a respected name for himself by inventing new potions that the entire world would clamour for (and not just ones that kept students happy but real potions that made an actual difference in the world, like something that would cure Magical Disfunctionia, which was when a Wizard's own magic turns on and consumes itself until there is no magic left and the Wizard is left a Squib). “That sounds bloody brilliant!”

Voldemort chuckled. “Glad you approve. Now, in exchange for funding your Mastery, I would only ask that you would supply potions to myself and our followers as needed. Does that sound fair to you?”

“It does.”

“Excellent.” Again, that faint hiss as he drew out the word. Severus thought it might be an affectation, and if so, it was also an effective one, reminding his subjects that he was a powerful Slytherin, and as such, not to be messed with. “I will contact an old friend of mine who happens to be between Apprentices right now. I’m sure he’d love to take on such a talented young man as soon you’re finished with school.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” And Severus meant every word.

“You’re welcome, Severus.” He smiled at him fondly. “Now come. It is time to reinvent yourself. I wish to see you demonstrate the abilities I see in your mind. We shall go to the dining room under your own disillusionment spell and you will Obliviate everyone here who knows who and what you really are and give them a new version of yourself to remember. And then we shall reenter the dining room and introduce you as my new Potions protégé. If that goes well, after dinner, you will continue on a tour of anyone else that needs their memories changed, and when it is done, you may summon me by touching your wand to the mouth of the snake on your Mark and I will deal with your despicable father, all right?”

“That sounds more than agreeable, My Lord.” Severus wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to this or not. In some ways, it would be a relief to almost be an entirely new person, but in others, he would miss what he had, especially with his Aunt and Lucius.

“Excellent,” Voldemort said again as he started to glide out of the room with elegant strides.

Severus followed.

* * *

Three hours later, he was almost done with his mission. So far, he’d Obliviated everyone at the dinner party, his Prince relatives (who’d thankfully all been together at the Prince Manor in Lancaster, also having dinner, and now believed Eileen Prince to have died in a tragic muggle car accident with her unacceptable muggle husband only days after running away with him), Garrick Ollivander, and Lily.

The last had been rather sucky, because he’d had to go searching for her. She wasn’t at home with her parents. Nor could she have been hanging out at the Potter residence since it had just been magically burnt to the ground with fiendfyre, which meant that it was irreparable. Having no idea where the Potters had holed up, he’d been afraid that he’d have to wait until he saw her again on the train to Hogwarts for the new term before he could change her memories, which he was sure would have displeased the Dark Lord, but on a whim, he’d tried the park near her house.

The same park they used to play in and held some of the best memories of his life.

And she was there, which had sent a familiar jolt of happiness through him before he squashed it down ruthlessly. Because she wasn’t alone.

She and Potter were having a very romantic looking picnic dinner under the stars, surrounded by several warming charms to protect them from the cold December air. He hadn’t even been standing there in the shadows for more than a minute, glaring at them laugh and giggle over who-knew-what, when they started eating each other’s faces instead of the food strewn around them.

Somehow, that had made it very easy for him to Obliviate them both, just in case she’d told Potter about his past. Not that he thought she would give away his secrets, but he thought better safe than sorry.

And since he was messing with her anyway, he removed all the memories she had of them together in this park except for the first one where he showed her what magic was, essentially making them acquaintances and nothing more. And even though it hurt, he left the more recent memories of him, including the one where he called her a mudblood, because Potter would probably notice if she started acting differently towards him.

It was better for everyone if she remained cold to him.

Everyone else that knew him didn’t know his origins anyway, not even the fact that he was a half-blood, because he’d wisely kept that fact to himself considering every single other person in Slytherin House was a pure-blood and anything otherwise simply wasn’t done.

With all of the Apparating and all of the intensely concentrated magic use, he was starting to tire, but he had only one more stop to go before he could summon the Dark Lord.

The only flaw in Voldemort’s plan so far had been the Malfoy house elves.

They weren’t Obliviatable.

And some of them had seen what Severus had done to their masters, since disillusionment spells didn’t work on them either.

But they were easily cowed into remaining silent, so that’s exactly what the Dark Lord had done, going down to the kitchens and threatening them with lots and lots of pain (and giving a little demonstration just to make his point) if they ever told what they knew about Severus. Dobby and the others had quivered in fear and promised to not tell Severus’ secret.

Severus hadn’t liked any of it, but he’d made his thorned bed by taking the Dark Mark and already Obliviating the Malfoys, so now he had to sleep in it.

He’d tried to give Dobby an apologetic look, but the tiny elf wouldn’t meet his eyes. He was afraid that Dobby wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore after this, but he’d have to find out some other time, when he wasn’t following the Dark Lord’s orders.

Now it was time to perform the hardest part of his task; altering his mother’s memories.

He really, really didn’t want to, but he’d agreed, and it was more or less for her own good, so now he had to follow through with what he’d started or – and he was fairly certain about this - suffer the same fate as the house elves. The memory of them writhing on the cold stone floor in agony from the Cruciatus curse was still very fresh in his mind and kept him going.

Which he was literally doing right now, trudging from the park back towards his home in the dark, delaying the inevitable just a little bit longer.

He wasn’t too surprised when Elehootay found him when he was only a few minutes from home, expecting her to have made it here by now. But her distressed sounding cry as she dove at him was certainly a shock.

“What is it, girl?” he asked as he held up his left arm for her to land on. He hissed as her talons dug into the fabric of his sleeve and even further into the tender flesh of the freshly tattooed skin. The pain was quickly forgotten as he spotted the letter and shrunken container he’d tied to her leg still there. He untied them and held them on the palm of his hand, dismay and fear starting to sink in “Mum!” he gasped. _She hasn’t taken them from her yet! Something must be wrong!_

_Father better not have hurt her again,_ he thought as he clenched the items in his fist and took off at a bolt to run the last two blocks home. Elehootay took off from his arm, following just above and behind him, hooting with worry. Technically, it would have been faster to Apparate, but his mind was starting to haze over with rage, and that was a good recipe for splinching himself, which he really didn’t need right now.

Severus leapt the gate and slammed into the house, the front door hitting the wall with a bang that probably startled the neighbours. His father was asleep on the couch in front of the T.V., chin to chest and a half empty bottle of whiskey in his loose fist. The flickering pictures from the television did not cast the very wasted former military officer in a flattering light.

Severus barely spared him a glance before he yelled, “Mum?! Mum, are you all right?!”

There was no answer except for his father’s grunt and snore as the noise disturbed him only momentarily.

He ran down the hallway. The bathroom was open, no one inside. The kitchen was empty, a stack of dirty dishes in the sink. _If Mum was all right, there would be no dishes. _

Close to hyperventilating now, Severus spun back around and nearly ran into his owl, who was so worried for him that she’d actually followed him into the house even though she knew not to unless he specifically told her it was all right. He just ducked the bird and ran to the stairs and up them, taking them three at a time with his long legs.

He found his mother in his own bed, where his father liked to dump her when she was ‘ill’ so she didn’t disturb his sleep in the bigger master bed. Only her long black hair and her ashen grey face was visible under the haphazardly placed thin green blanket. Her eyes were closed and the lids looked paper thin. A huge purple bruise covered the side of her face that his father had struck yesterday morning.

Her lips were nearly blue.

“Mum,” he gasped, running over to the small bed and falling to his knees beside her, the note and food container falling out of his suddenly nerveless hand. “Mum, Mum, Mum,” he whimpered, his hand hovering over her face but not daring to touch.

He was petrified that she was dead.

Almost sure of it, in fact, until her lips parted and he heard an almost inaudible wheezing inhale. Severus sagged, head hitting the bed beside her as reactionary tears leaked from his eyes. _Thank Merlin. _

Another wheeze had him moving in a flurry.

While not trained as a healer, he’d nevertheless read enough medical books for situations just like this that he knew all of the diagnostic spells and what to do for most injuries. His new wand was in his hand casting those spells in only seconds. As he waited anxiously for the magic to do its assessments, he dug into the pocket of his robe and pulled out his shrunken trunk and grew it to its normal size so he could access the contents. Hidden inside the lid behind a false panel was row after row of potions in a multitude of colours and densities.

His passion and his main source of income.

He looked up and found that the diagnostics were finished. The readings made him grit his teeth as rage settled in him again.

His mother had a serious concussion, internal bleeding from a burst spleen, a punctured lung from one of four broken ribs, two crushed vertebrae, and a shattered fibula on her right leg. This was by far the worst condition she’d ever been in. “Fuck. What did he do to you? Throw you down the stairs?”

Another tiny wheeze was his only answer.

Swiping at the tears blurring his vision, Severus carefully sat on the bed beside her and pulled her upright just enough so that he could pour potions down her throat and have them actually go down and stay down. She moaned in her sleep but didn’t awaken from what had to be terrible pain at the movement, which was probably for the best. And then he started feeding her the numerous potions she’d need to heal, from skele-gro to a strengthening solution, which, while not usually used for injuries, could be given in critical cases when the patient was near death to help jumpstart their systems again.

When that was done and her colour and breathing had already started to improve, Severus laid her back down on his bed and watched her for a few minutes with anxious eyes. When she took her first full breath, he did as well, relief making his bones fell nearly jello-like. And then, because he'd basically signed his soul away, he Obliviated her and replaced her memories of her abusive muggle husband with the story Voldemort had suggested and gave her the boringly common new maiden name of Greenwood. She'd never see her real husband again after tonight anyway so it was probably for the best that she didn't remember how much he'd put her through. Her new, imaginary muggle husband would still look like the one she'd actually married, but he'd be kind, if a bit emotionally distant, so she didn't miss him too much when she only remembered the fact that he'd died in a car accident that had also left her barely alive.

Now she just needed time to heal and someone to keep feeding her potions every few hours. He fully intended to be that person. And it most certainly wasn’t going to be here in this house that he couldn’t stand. Nor could it be at Malfoy Manor anymore since he’d just Obliterated their memories of her real identity, but they’d come roaring back if they got even a glimpse of how nearly identical she was to Elena Malfoy.

That left just one place where he felt safe – the Dark Lord’s abode not even crossing his mind as something that qualified – Hogwarts.

But first, Severus was going to deal with his father once and for all, no longer content to let Voldemort do it for him.

Tobias Snape had beat up his mother for the last time.


	12. Inquisitions and Interventions

**A/N: This is the last chapter for this story for a few months while I work on other stories again for a bit. Next up in the rotation for the month of May is my Comparable series which you all might like as well. You'll want to start with the completed one called 'A Comparable Nose', which is also a Sevmione story. I'm currently working on 'A Comparable Status', which is a Draco/Ginny story. And I don't know if any of you like Star Wars, but I also have many of those as well as a season 7 Clone Wars story featuring Rexsoka being updated every couple of days that I'm rather proud of if you feel like checking it out. **

**Thanks for listening to me plug my own stuff. :P And now on with the story!**

* * *

**Inquisitions and Interventions:**

_1998…_

As Hermione devoured her second plateful of scrambled eggs and sausages (all liberally covered in HP Sauce, just because) that the house elves had happily cooked up in only moments for her and her friends, she listened with not a little amusement to Ginny finish questioning Draco like she was a member of the Office of the Holy Inquisition hellbent on dragging his arse to the gallows for execution.

Their group had grown to include almost every surviving member of the student body who had fought in the battle, having all been sent downstairs by Madam Hooch when she caught wind of their destination and thinking feeding their hungry teenage stomachs to be a brilliant idea. It left the real adults free to deal with dead bodies and the wounded without the younger generation looking on and cringing the entire time. The only students exempt from the politely worded ‘get out of our hair’ order were the ones that had injuries that had yet to be treated or the two or three Hufflepuffs who were healing inclined and refused to leave.

Hermione would have been included in the latter group if Harry and Draco hadn’t literally dragged her away from the Great Hall.

They were all sitting around a simple table in the underground kitchens of Hogwarts, Ginny’s in-depth examination of Draco’s motives and history the object of everyone’s fascinated attention.

Hermione had to admit that Draco was mostly handling it surprisingly well, except for one probably justified instance, not getting fed up or too snarky like he would have once upon a time. It felt kind of weird to her to think it, but she could see how, in another time and universe, she might have actually liked the blond Slytherin. She could even admit that he was handsome… in a very pale and aristocratic way that didn’t really do anything for her. But maybe that was because she had too many years of disgust for him and his father to see a Malfoy as something desirable.

Of course, in that same universe, they probably would have both been Ravenclaws because the Sorting Hat would have actually been able to properly sort people. Seriously, she and Malfoy had the best grades in the school, and Ravenclaws were supposed to be the smart ones.

“So let me get this straight,” Ginny was saying as she leaned across the table towards Draco, a fierce frown on her pretty face. “Professor Snape was your Godfather and a double agent for the Light side. You technically weren’t, but since you hated Moldy’s guts for threatening your mother all the time, you did as little as you could possibly get away with whenever he gave you a task to do. You’re still a pure-blood snob, but not as supremacist as you were and then pretended to be. You’ve somehow managed to never murder anyone but have performed the other two Unforgivables because you were forced to. And now you think everyone is just going to forgive your pigheaded self enough so that you can make a move on Hermione with no one protesting?”

_Wait, what was that last part? Did I miss something? Who told her that? Draco wants to make a move on me? Is THAT what he’s been doing, being all nice and such? _

_Hunh. I don’t know how I feel about that. _

She looked at Draco, who was sitting beside her and possibly a little closer than he absolutely needed to be now that she thought about it, and saw him smirk at Ginny in one of his trademark looks of superiority. “That’s about it. Live with it.” He then stood, pushing his chair back with more force than necessary and held a hand out to Hermione. “You’re done, right?”

Hermione looked at her plate that contained only two or three crumbs of eggs left and had to admit that the she was, even if there was a huge part of her that just wanted to stay here with her friends and pick at a third plateful of food for the next hour. Or ten. “Yeah, I’m done.”

Ignoring the hand that Draco held out to assist her to her feet – _I’m not a fricking pure-blood flower, for Pete’s sake! – _she stood on her own. “Lead the way, Malfoy. I’m more than ready to make the last few years disappear.”

Draco only blinked once at the slight and tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. He smiled at her, but it didn’t reach the deep sorrow in his dark grey eyes. “So am I.”

Hermione kind of regretted not taking his hand now, which was absurd. _Wasn't it? It's Malfoy! _

Harry surged to his feet as they moved to leave. “Hey! Not without me you’re not!”

Hermione laughed almost bitterly. “Of course not. What kind of search for a magical object would it be without you beside me?”

“Exactly,” Harry said proudly, moving around the table to catch up to them.

“It’s not exactly hiding,” Draco said dryly. “I know exactly where it is.”

“I’m still coming with,” Harry said, narrowing his gem green eyes at the Slytherin boy. “I’m not leaving you alone with Hermione any time soon, you can guarantee that.”

Draco snorted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. _Like I can’t take care of myself. Sheesh._

“Well, you’re not bloody well leaving me behind again,” Ginny stated, leaving no room for argument as she popped off her chair as well. She attached herself to Harry’s arm again and that was that.

Shaking her head at the younger girl, Hermione strode for the exit, a small herd of people following behind her. She didn’t even realize that Neville and Luna had quietly attached themselves to the group until they were climbing back up to the stairs to the Entrance Hall and she heard the familiar breathy giggle of the blonde, fairy-like girl.

Hermione looked back over her shoulder and raised a brow as she saw Luna and Neville whispering to each other and holding hands. _When did that happen? Oh, who cares. I’m happy for them. _

_And maybe just the tiniest bit jealous._

Because she realized that even though she and Ron had kissed earlier, nothing had actually changed in their interactions afterwards and she hadn't felt inclined towards doing so. There had been no giggling. No hand holding. And certainly no heated looks like the other two couples with her were sharing. And that just brought it home in an unforgiving way that her earlier doubts had been justified. _Even though there’s a good chance I can get him back, I don’t think we’re meant to be together romantically. Especially considering it hadn’t happened in the entire, nearly seven years that I’ve known him. _

Hermione kept the forlorn sigh that threatened to escape to herself. She glanced at Draco contemplatively, who was walking beside her but far enough away to not feel like he was crowding her as they made the long trek down to the dungeons. He seemed just as happy as her to stride in silence (unlike the two couples trailing behind them, producing much whispering that sounded too loud in the hushed and broken hallways). His expression was set in determined lines, but there was a slight quiver to his jaw that indicated he was probably thinking about his mum.

Her chest hurt in sympathy for him. _At least both my parents are still alive. I feel like I should give him a hug or something. But he’s sure to interpret that the wrong way and I’m still not sure about him. Not even close. I think I should feel more than passing interest, right? And I refuse to settle for good but not great. I’d rather be alone and turn into a crazy old cat lady if I can’t find a wizard who can make me forget about books. _

Shrugging off that depressing thought as something to contemplate another time, Hermione quickened her pace, eager to get this time travel experiment over with so she could eat some more, shower the echoes of Greyback's touch off of her for an hour or two in scalding hot water, and then take a year long nap.

They finally arrived at the locked door of the cold dungeon office that no one in recent memory had ever wanted but Snape, and everyone gathered around the door. Knowing from past experience that a simple _'alohomora'_ was not going to open this door, Hermione first looked to Draco before she went to the effort of cracking the various wards that protected Snape's private sanctum. **"**As the Godson, I'm guessing you can get us in."

Draco smirked. "Of course." He pulled out his wand with a flourish.

Harry glowered and crossed his arms over his chest at the reminder.

He’d had a massive fit at the breakfast table when he’d learned that little fact that went something along the lines of, “Wait. Snape's Godson? No wonder he took your side all the time! That was bloody unfair!”

"Fuck off, Potter," Draco had sneered back. "Uncle Sev just refused to follow in everyone else's footsteps by treating you like you shit rainbows and candy. Get over yourself already.”

“Why should I, you sodding git? I’m not the one who’s a Death Eater and hopefully going to Azkaban for the rest of his pathetic life.”

And that, naturally, had led to the two boys pointing their wands at each other as they leaned over the table, glaring almost literal daggers.

Which, of course, had led to nearly everyone else at the table (except for kind-hearted Luna) drawing their wand against Draco as well. Hermione had felt like the only sane person left alive as she’d sighed and just kept eating, used to the dramatics of her fellow students. She was so tired and just DONE with all of this that she honestly didn’t care if they all hexed themselves to death. Maybe if she hadn’t been going back in time to change all of this, she would have cared more, but she was so she didn’t. She decided to enjoy the show instead.

And then Harry had gone and made things just a little bit more entertaining by noticing what wand Draco was holding, blurting out, “Hey! That's my wand now!"

Draco, being Draco, had only sneered and gripped his wand tighter and growled back, “No fucking way! This is MY wand! You bloody well took it right out of my hand like a thief. I'm claiming it back. You've got the fucking Elder Wand now, isn't that enough for you?"

Harry had blinked behind his glasses, completely speechless at the crude but possibly accurate accusation as everyone else in the room had turned to Harry and gawked at Dumbledore’s wand that they all recognized instantly now that they’d focused on it. Hermione had nearly burst into laughter at the shocked gazes.

“You mean the Elder Wand is real?” Ginny had breathed out faintly, clearly awed.

"And Dumbledore had it?" Neville added.

“Yeah. Moldy had a serious hardon for it and orchestrated everything so he could get it,” Draco had sneered, glaring at the wand in Harry’s clenched fist.

And just like that, Ginny’s interrogation had continued and everyone had sat back down to eat and listen.

And now Draco was basically taunting Harry with his wand again as he contemplated the door like it was a giant puzzle, arms crossed over his chest and tapping his chin with the tip of his wand. Hermione was torn between laughing and punching Draco again out of principle. She settled for eye-sparking annoyance. "Just open the door, Malfoy."

Draco huffed, gave Potter one last curl of his lip, and then did as the Gryffindor Princess asked, which he had a feeling he’d be getting in the habit of doing quite willingly, for the most part. With a complicated wave of his wand and a silent, '_Alohomora, Potious Sanctuarium,' _so that the nosy gits with him wouldn't be able to defile Snape's space in the future, Draco opened the door.

The office looked the same as it always had; dimly lit, somewhat musty, and filled with floor to ceiling shelves of potions ingredients and books. To Draco, it was almost a second home, he'd spent so much time in here visiting and learning from his Godfather. He walked in confidently, the gaggle of Gryffindors and scatterbrained Ravenclaw (who was proof positive that the Sorting Hat was a few candles shy of a lit room) following in his wake, and walked straight to a bookcase on the left side of the room. 

Hermione watched as Draco ran his wand down the spine of a dark green book located in the middle of a row of similar books. Her left eyebrow rose as the bookcase swung outward with a creak from the trigger. _And how did Snape expect me to find all of this on my own? I would have been running around the castle on a pointless treasure hunt if Draco hadn't deigned to help me._

_Maybe that was the idea. Maybe he wanted us to work together. Maybe he wanted me to realize that Draco wasn't so bad. _

_Or maybe I'm reading way too much into a dying man's wishes. _

Inside what turned out to be a fair sized cupboard, every weird and pointless instrument or bauble that had been in Dumbledore's office was now stacked neatly on shelves with a care that showed respect to the former owner. And in the corner stood a tall, ornate bird stand with a bowl under it to catch the ashes as the phoenix burned, that used to belong to Dumbledore's faithful companion, Fawkes.

Hermione levitated the heavy stand to the center of the room as the six of them crowded into the cupboard. They then proceeded to inspect it from top to bottom in the hopes of finding a hidden compartment. They cast revealing spells to no avail. Then they ran their fingers over every millimetre of it, hoping to trigger something. Also to no avail.

Draco may have taken that opportunity to brush his fingers against Hermione’s on purpose, but you’d never get him to admit it out loud. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to notice, which kind of hurt. But he was used to being ignored by her, so he didn’t take it to heart. It just made him more determined to try and catch her attention in a less devious way.

After a good twenty minutes of investigating, Hermione glared at the stand with crossed arms, her wand pointing outwards from tapping fingers. "Okay, I don't see how there's a time-turner in here. This is ridiculous."

"Agreed." Draco frowned at it. _Maybe Hermione heard Uncle Sev wrong? Or he was delirious and spouting nonsense? _

Neville had been mostly unhelpful, basically trying to stay out of everyone else's way, but now he had something to say as a brewing thought simmered to the surface of his mind and decided it needed to be said. "What if it's not what it seems?"

Hermione turned to him, surprised. "What?"

Neville gained confidence in his idea, standing just a little taller. "What if the stand is not a stand? What if it's been transfigured from something else?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Of course!" She whipped back around and pointed her wand at the stand. _"Finite Incantatem!" _

Everyone gasped as the stand immediately began to shimmer and shake, and then with a burst of golden light it transformed into a giant gold hourglass within a series of circles that was about three feet tall in total.

The exclamations came out all at once from her companions while Hermione just stared in silent awe.

"Holy shite!" Harry gawked.

“Whoa,” Ginny gasped.

"Fucking hell," Draco breathed.

"Merlin's balls! I was right!" Neville crowed.

Luna tilted her head a little and smiled. “Pretty.” She wrapped an arm Neville’s waist and kissed his cheek by standing on her toes and then patiently waiting for the tallest boy in the room by far to bend down a bit. “It’s nice that you listened when I told you that there’s always more there than the eye is willing to see.”

Neville looked down at the tiny girl and grinned like he’d just won his first ever Quidditch match. “I do try and remember everything you say, my little sweetie pie.”

Draco nearly gagged at the sight. _Merlin save me from sickening displays of Gryffindor affection. _

"Trust Dumbledore to have the biggest time-turner known to wizardkind," Hermione said with a slow shake of her head after a moment of gawking at the adorable couple. The sheer size of the time-turner got her thinking.

As far as she knew, you had to actually be touching the device for it to work, but who knew with such a big source of magic? So she turned to her friends and gently started herding them back out of the cupboard, not wanting to take any chances with the range of such a massive time-turner. “Right. That’s it. Everybody out.” There was no way she was letting any of them come with her, not even by accident. It would be hard enough to keep herself undetected in the past; she didn't need the added worry of another person.

Used to following her orders, they all moved without protest for a few steps before Harry and Draco realized what she was doing and dug in their feet, which meant that everyone came to a stumbling halt in the doorway and then shuffled awkwardly back in so they weren’t all in a pile anymore.

Harry narrowed his eyes at his best friend, jaw clenched tight with suppressed anger at what she’d tried to pull. "You are not doing this on your own, Hermione Granger. I'm coming with you."

"So am I," Draco said just as determinedly. "I probably know more about Voldemort than both of you combined; I did share a house with him and work for him if you’ll care to recall. You'll need me."

Hermione shook her head adamantly. "No. I'm doing this alone. If something goes wrong, we don't all need to be stuck Merlin-knows-where. I have nothing left in this reality to hold me here. You both do. Harry, you have Ginny. Are you really going to leave her behind again?”

Ginny gasped at this, her brown eyes widening with fear and hurt at the reminder of how Harry had refused to let her come on their Horcrux Quest with them. His shaggy black-haired head swivelled back and forth between Hermione and his girlfriend, clearly torn.

Harry shook his head slowly, his eyes wide with mournful realization. _She's right. I can't leave Ginny again. She's already lost Fred and Ron today. If I disappear too, that would just be too much. _

Hermione continued ruthlessly on while Harry sighed in defeat and wrapped his arms around a very relieved looking Ginny. She turned her gaze to the Slytherin who was looking obstinately back at her. “And you. You’re the Malfoy heir. If you go back in time now and don’t make it back, you’re leaving your family name to rot. With your mother gone and your father probably going to prison for the rest of his life, there won’t be any more Malfoys.”

Draco sucked in a breath at that and frowned at her. “Damn, witch. You hit hard."

“As you very well know,” she had the audacity to remind him.

Draco almost touched his nose in memory, but forced his hand to stay down. He clenched it into a fist instead as he thought over his options. It took him about two seconds to realize he didn’t have any, because Hermione was right; he couldn’t go back in time and possibly abandon the Malfoy lineage. He was the last of his line. _But I'm sure Granger will be back in no time at all. At least, that's how it will feel to me if this works. Assuming I even remember that she left. She's talking about rewriting our history, after all. _

_I'll just have to take the chance that I'll still like her in the new timeline. And I honestly don't see why not. She's bossy, brilliant, and beautiful. What's not to like? _

_Either way, it doesn't hurt for me to give her something to look forward to coming back to, _he thought with an inner smirk, and then stepped closer to her, grey eyes turning to molten silver. 


	13. Confessions of the Snapes

**A/N: Surprise! ** **After months of neglecting many of my stories while I concentrated on only a few, the guilt of abandoning them has finally done me in. Which means that I’m going to put ALL 13 of my WIPs back in an equal rotation.**

**But what I will also do is make sure that I update whichever story has the most combined favs and kudos from the two sites I post on at the beginning of every week as a thank you to the people who are supporting that story.**

**I hope this works for everyone. I know some of you have been begging me to update stories that have been ignored for more than a year now, and I’m finally going to start doing so... 1000 + words at a time. :D**

* * *

**Confessions of the Snapes:**

_1977..._

Severus had no recollection of going down the stairs, but he knew that he must have because he was now standing in front of his snoring sire with clenched fists and the urge to _Avada Kedavra _him from here to next year riding the teenager hard.

But Severus was not a murderer and he had no wish to become one unless he absolutely had to. So he kept his wand pointed towards the floor and his teeth tightly clenched while he worked on calming himself a fraction or two. (Rage was fine. Murderous rage was not.)

While he’d been upstairs, healing his mother, his father had lost his loose grip on the whiskey bottle and it now lay on the floor, a stain spreading across the threadbare carpet that used to be beige but now hovered closer to brown from age. The small TV still flickered, casting shadows in the dim light of the corner lamp. Elehootay was perched on top of the TV, her fierce gaze glued to his father as if she knew that he was the one responsible for everything bad that had happened in this wretched house.

Severus got the impression that his owl would happily be pecking his father’s eyes out and then feasting on his guts if he were already dead.

_If he was, I probably would be cheering her on, _he thought spitefully.

But his father was still breathing, unfortunately, too stubborn and fit to die of something as simple as overindulgence in alcohol. Tobias Snape might be a drunkard and missing half a leg, but he was still a soldier at heart and somehow managed to keep active enough to prevent a beer gut from settling on his tall and heavy frame. (Not to mention that he didn’t generally drink the much cheaper beer. Oh no, only the finest whiskey from Scotland would do for the retired Major.)

“Elehootay, go,” Severus tried not to growl at her with the vile emotions clogging up his throat. “Meet me at Hogwarts.”

She tilted her head, hooted softly, and then reluctantly flew out of the room. Severus turned his focus back to the foul excuse for a human being slumped over on the ratty old couch.

_Time to wake up, you fucking bastard._

With a flick of his new wand, Severus blew up the TV that he’d never been allowed to watch. It exploded with a very satisfying bang and a shower of sparks that produced the result he was looking for.

His father woke with a gargled scream, his eyes going wide with momentary terror as he searched the room for enemy fighters. All he found was Severus. “What the fuck you doing?” he rasped out, moving to stand up.

Severus vanished the ugly couch.

His father crashed to the floor.

“Why you little...” he sputtered.

“_Silencio_!”

His father’s mouth sealed shut, lips looking glued together, and his pale blue eyes all but bugged out with fury. The enraged man moved to push himself off the carpet that was lighter in colour where the couch had protected it for as long as Severus could remember.

Another flick of his wand, and Severus had his father bound in rope from shoulders to ankles. A high pitched whine emerged from his throat, but that was all he could contribute towards protesting because of the silencing spell.

Severus smirked cruelly. One more flick of his wand accompanied by a, “_Levicorpus_!” and his father was hanging upside down in front of him. Due to the constraints of the relatively low ceiling, this meant that his father’s head was now level with Severus’ knees. Since that wouldn’t do – Severus refused to lower himself in any way before this man again – he floated his whinging sire along behind him as he strode out of the living room and into the entrance hall that was two stories high.

He may have deliberately let his father’s knees crash into the upper doorframe on the way through.

Once in the more open space, Severus directed his father’s sausage tied form to float up high enough so that they were now at the same eye level. Black eyes locked on ice blue and glares of utter hatred were exchanged.

_When I get out of this, that boy will have breathed his last, _the elder Snape was thinking.

Severus showed his teeth in a way that could never be called a smile. “Oh. I think not. You’re never laying a hand on me or my mum again, you gangrenous pustule on a troll’s arse.”

_What?! How did he..._

“Surprise, FATHER,” Severus spat, lip curled maliciously. “I can read your mind.”

_“You can what?!” _Severus had never seen those hate filled eyes wider in his life.

Severus laughed bitterly. “It’s my own private curse; reading minds. I know what anyone who looks at me is thinking, what they’re imagining, what memories they’re reliving. Always could. And oh, how special you made me feel, really, to know how much you despised my very existance, so fuck you for that.” Severus deliberately pushed the tip of his wand into the center of the other man’s forehead, watching the eyes cross as they followed the movement. “And fuck you for proving that Muggles really shouldn’t know anything about magic. You just can’t handle it, can you? Can’t handle knowing that I have more power in my little finger than you do in your entire body. So you had to prove to yourself over and over again that you were still the dominant one by beating me and Mum as often as you could.”

_“That’s not...”_

Severus snorted, lowering his wand again, not quite ready to end this truly fascinating and long overdue conversation. “Of course it was. Unless you really do believe in your gods and devils and such and you actually believe I’m an incarnation of Satan come to life as you’ve so elegantly put on more than one occasion.” Severus waited, watching his father stew over that, his thoughts inconclusive. He pushed him for an answer. “So? Do you? Believe in God above? Heaven and Hell? Or is that just something that you’ve been trained to think?”

_“I don’t know. It certainly felt like there couldn’t possibly be a God watching over us on the battlefields of the second World War, or the Korean War, or every smaller one in between, or protecting me from the bloody scratch I got on my leg in those fucking swamps of the fucking Malayan ‘Emergency’ that got infected and forced the doctor to cut it off and ended my career.”_

That was the first time Severus had heard about how his father had actually lost his left leg and he almost felt a hint of sympathy for him. Almost. “Be that as it may, I’ll tell you what I believe.”

_This ought to be good. Fucking wizard voodoo or something._

Severus huffed in actual amusement before he continued in a low growl. “I believe that you ARE going to Hell, or someplace equally torturesome. I don’t personally believe in God or Gods, being of a more scientific bent, but there are proven other realms of existence once you pass on from this one. If there is any justice in this world, when you die, you will go to the most unpleasant realm possible. Preferably one where they whip you until you have no skin left, throw your bleeding carcass in a fire, and then they start all over as soon as you rejuvenate, and so on into infinity.”

His father made a slight whimpering sound of terror in the back of his throat, his mind blank except for, ironically, _Oh God! _Maybe because Severus had finally unleashed all of the suppressed anger, resentment, and pain he’d been holding in for years and years, making the power contained within him manifest to the extreme.

His hair and clothes whipped around his body in his own hurricane of magic, the walls shook, the front door slammed closed, the window shattered, and the dim foyer light flickered madly. And his obsidian eyes blazed with the flames of which he spoke even as the air around them dropped in temperature so quickly that frost formed on the walls and floor.

“I would relish doing that to you myself,” Severus rumbled out from somewhere deep within himself as he pulled the power back in and everything returned to semi normal. “But I have to take care of Mum first, so I’m going to give you to someone else to give you what you deserve. Someone nowhere near as nice as I am.”

_“Who? Who could possibly be worse than you?” _His eyes were nearly as black as Severus’ now with adrenaline and he was trembling inside his ropes.

Severus smiled grimly. “The man I just signed my soul over to in exchange for keeping Mum safe from you. You might even call him the Wizarding version of Satan. I’m sure the two of you will get on famously.”

_“I don’t understand. Wizards have a devil too?”_

“You don’t need to understand, but yes, in a fashion.” Severus stared at his father in silence for a few seconds. “I just need to know one thing.”

_“What?”_

“Why do you hate Mum and I so? Is it really just because we have magic and you don’t?”

His father’s eyes looked tormented for the first time in Severus’ memory, his conscience suddenly telling him that everything he’d done had been wrong. _“I... I don’t..."_

"Don't even bother trying to lie to me," Severus warned, pushing his wand into the side of his father's throat.

Tobias Snape gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. _"__All right, yes. I felt so betrayed when I saw you floating your toy blocks. I loved your mother and you so much, so very very much, I really did. But then I found out that she’d kept a huge secret from me, it felt worse than if she’d cuckolded me with my best mate. How could I have married a witch? An abomination to God’s plan? It was like I was being punished for every single person I killed on the field of battle or something and the only way to make amends was to try and drive the magic out of both of you with any means necessary.”_

Severus clenched his fingers around his wand as his power rose again in response to his pain. Somehow, it hurt even worse knowing that his sire might have been a normal, loving one, if Severus had only been born a Squib. “I’m sorry you felt that way, but you were wrong, so very wrong. Mum loves you, gave up her magic long ago for you, and you almost killed her this last time for nothing! She was practically gasping in her last breaths when I came home!”

To his credit, Tobias Snape’s eyes actually welled with tears. _“I... It was accident! I went to yell at you some more yesterday morning when you were in the cellar and she came to stop me. I lost my temper and somehow, I don’t really know how, she was suddenly tumbling down the stairs. I ran down and picked her up – you weren’t there, why weren’t you there? I know you can heal things a bit – and took her upstairs. She spoke and said she’d be fine. I believed her.” _

Two solemn trails of moisture flowed onto his father’s forehead and into his grey buzz cut. _“I believed her.”_

Severus gazed at his father with a broken heart and cold eyes. “For the record, if you had but treated me like your son, I would have given up magic for you too. But you pushed me away so much that magic was all I had left to turn to. Remember that in whatever minutes or hours you have left.”

_“What? Please don’t...”_

Severus pulled his gaze away from his father’s. He didn’t want to hear any begging or pitiful entreaties or he might lose his resolve. Pushing his sleeve up, Severus touched his wand to the still aching Dark Mark.

Only moments later, Lord Voldemort cracked into the room beside him and his father whimpered in his throat again, jolting violently within his bonds and the magic that held him upside down in the air.

Severus dropped to one knee, bowing his head.

Voldemort touched him on the shoulder, indicating he could get up. And then he took in the scene in one cool sweep of cold blue eyes that suddenly reminded Severus too much of his father’s. A single eyebrow rose. “Interesting. I see you’ve already started.”

“And gone as far as I’m willing,” Severus said as emotionlessly as he could manage. (His voice still cracked slightly, much to his dismay.) “I’ve done my part; no one remembers who I really am anymore, including my mother. Now it’s your turn to keep your promise to make sure my father will never hurt us again.”

Voldemort put a comforting hand on Severus’ shoulder, easily plucking the last few hours out of his mind as he locked eyes with him. Severus found that it didn’t hurt as long as he offered up his memories freely. After a moment, the debonair wizard smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Your repulsive sire will be dealt with accordingly and left to be found at the scene of a tragic hit and run car accident. Terrible things, those muggle death traps.”

“Thank you. That works for me. I don’t need to know more,” Severus said stiltedly as he moved to the stairs, ignoring the way his father’s eyes were bulging again and how he was shaking his head frantically.

“Then you won’t,” Voldemort said. Severus paused on the second step and looked back as his new Master continued to speak. “And yes, I agree that the best place to heal your mother is at Hogwarts. So much quieter than St. Mungo’s, especially this time of year. And I hear that the new Matron, Pomfey or something like that, is one of the most talented Healers alive at the moment.”

“Madam Pomfrey is very competent,” Severus agreed. “Thank you again, My Lord. Please, fell free to summon me anytime you need me.”

“I will do so, young Severus, no question of that.”

Even though Voldemort was smiling, a chill chased down Severus’ spine. He nodded respectfully and then continued his climb up the stairs in a hurried rush.

From below him, he heard Voldemort say, “Now, what shall I do with you? It’s been at least a month since I’ve had a good, solid, well built toy like you to play with.”

_I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know, _Severus thought on repeat as he frantically packed up his trunk with a wave of his wand and shrunk it. Then he went over to the small bed and picked up his mother, hugging her much-too-light frame to his own lean chest.

_I'm sorry, Mum. So very sorry. For so many things, _he thought as an unwanted tear fell on her hair. He kissed it away.

Just before he Apparated out of the dismal house in Spinners End, he heard his father scream like his bones were being ripped from his body all at once.

_Merlin. What have I done?_


	14. Farewell To The Present

**Farewell to the Present:**

_1998…_

Hermione automatically took a step back as Draco moved closer to her, but then her own stubborn pride halted her feet, since she had vowed a long time ago that she would die before she ever showed any sort fear or obeisance to a Malfoy.

She looked up at him as he invaded her personal space bubble, a frisson of alarm shooting through her at the heated look in his metallic eyes. _What does he think he’s doing?_

Draco’s heart was tripping just a little faster in his chest at what he was about to do. Nonetheless, he was pleased with his own daring. "Fine,” he admitted. “Your points are valid. I'll stay here. But I want you to know that there is something left for you in this reality."

Hermione's breath caught at the intense look in his eyes and the sincerity in his smooth voice. Despite her vow to do otherwise, she shifted backward half a fraction. _Where is he going with this? _“And what is that?”

“Me,” Draco said confidently, sidling a fraction closer. He cupped her shoulders in his hands gently to emphasize his next words. (And to help ensure she didn’t bolt.) "Aside from Potter, the Weaslette, the rest of the Weasels, and assorted other hangers-on, who I know all adore you, I would miss you too, believe it or not." Draco’s mouth quirked up ruefully. "Someone has to keep me in my place."

Despite not being entirely comfortable with his touch, Hermione laughed a little. “That is very true. You do tend to get a swelled head if I don’t keep reminding you that the world doesn’t begin and end with your exalted presence.”

Draco barked out a laugh, his hands squeezing fondly on her shoulders. “And that’s exactly my point. You’re the only one who cares enough to make sure I can still fit through the doorways.”

“I think that’s more like pissed off annoyance than caring,” Harry pointed out, making Ginny snort and Luna laugh like a little bell.

Draco ignored the unhelpful Gryffindor git behind him and moved one arm down to her waist to pull Hermione closer to him, the other hand moving up to bury in that sweet mass of curls that he’d been wanting to touch ever since he’d first seen them.

Hermione gasped at the move, and almost jerked right back out of his hold, but then his next words stilled her and made her think.

As he stared down into her startled doe eyes, Draco murmured, "You're the only witch in this whole school who is my equal and I hope you would consider going out with me when you get back."

_Did he just call me his equal????????? And ask me out??????? Has the world turned upside down? _“Uhhhhhhhhhh. I don’t…”

Draco cut off whatever protest she might have made by bending and giving her the best soft and sweet kiss his years of practice had to offer; just the right amount of pressure with the perfect angle and the perfect amount of caressing movement. He ignored Potter's loudly exclaimed, "Oi!" as he finished off with the barest hint of tongue whispering over her luscious bottom lip. _I should have done this years ago. Her mouth is the perfect pillow for mine._

“If that isn't a good enough reason to come back and give me a chance to show you I'm not completely beyond hope,” he whispered huskily in her ear, making her shiver slightly. “…then I don't know what is.”

And then he let her go and watched her anxiously as she stared at him huge eyes and a hand that came up to cover her mouth, waiting for her verdict.

* * *

Hermione was stunned. Literally stunned. A _petrificus totalus _could not have immobilized her any better. But her buzzing mind was anything but frozen.

_Draco Malfoy just kissed me._

_Draco. Freaking. Malfoy. Kissed. Me._

_A ‘Mudblood’._

_The world really has flipped on its head_ _._

_Merlin._

_And he was really good at it too. Probably the best kiss I've ever had, actually. And look how hopeful he looks. Oh god, I don't want to break his heart on top of everything else he's gone through today, but I don't think I could ever love him. He's really just not my type._

_If silver isn't your type, what is? _her conscience asked. _Ginger? Did you actually love Ron? _

_I... Don't know. Maybe not. As my friend and brother, yes, for sure. But as a lifelong romantic partner… probably not. _The thought made her wince mentally, since she would have ended up with a messy breakup at some point if he had survived the battle. And that might have ruined their friendship, which would have been a crying shame.

She pushed that painful reminder of his death away and focused on the question her conscience had raised.

_So if my type isn’t pale and polished, nor bright and brash, what does that leave?_

_Maybe someone... dark and dangerous?_

_Like Victor Krum? He was pretty hot. _

_But Draco kissed better than him by a mile, _her hormones piped up with, reminding her why her relationship with Victor had never been seriously pursued.

_True, and smarter would be nice too. Victor and I had absolutely nothing in common._

_What about someone like Professor Snape? _the little devil on her shoulder suggested with a smirk and a wink.

_What?! Hell no! _

But then she remembered his beautiful, bottomless black eyes, and that incredible deep voice, and his aura of dangerous power, and his high level of intelligence, and his lean height that made her feel like a pixie in comparison, and she had to rethink her automatic reaction of, ‘never in a million years.’

_Okay, well, maybe. _

_But the Professor was too old. Maybe someone like Snape, but younger._

Her conscience snorted in amusement. _So you've just narrowed your dream man down to tall, dark, extremely powerful, relatively good looking, under the age of twenty-five, and a certified genius. Good luck finding one of those. Maybe you should give Draco a chance. He's smart enough, tall enough, powerful enough, definitely young enough, and surely you can talk yourself into thinking pale and pointy is sexy?_

Hermione let her gaze roam over the face of the young man in question, really looking at him for the first time in who knows how long, registering that he’d actually grown up and changed rather drastically in the last six years. She had to admit to herself that Draco Malfoy was better than good looking now, but her stomach didn’t flutter at the realization. Nor did her heartbeat pick up.

_No matter what his attitude is now, nor how pretty he is, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fall in love with him. And that’s just not fair to him._

_…I can’t believe I just thought something in regards to being fair to a Malfoy._

_Oh Merlin, I'm going barmy._

_Right. Enough of this inner monologue. Just let the boy down easy and get out of here. You have history to rewrite._

_And a younger Snape to save… _her hormones suggested naughtily.

Hermione blinked.

_Say what?_

_Younger Snape. Say it with me. Youunnnnngggggerrrr Snaaaapppppe. Simple, right?_

_Uhhhhhhhhhh… I don’t think three years is going to make that much of a difference._

_It might. You never know._

She mentally rolled her eyes at her hormones. _Not to him. He wouldn’t touch someone who looks like a student with a hundred foot pole. _

_We’ll see. Now, get rid of blondie._

* * *

Draco wondered if he should kiss her again, since she hadn't budged for at least a minute and seemed to be staring at him in surprise, and possibly wonder, without a single hint of disgust. _Much better than I hoped. She didn't punch me again, so my day is already looking up._

But then Hermione shook her head slightly before giving him a gentle smile. "Thank you, Draco, for reminding me that I haven't lost everything. I will consider your offer while I'm wandering around in the past."

Draco beamed. _Yes! That wasn't a no! What an idiot I was to push her away all these years. I knew I should have asked her to dance at the Yule Ball. I'm sure I could have talked Father around to the idea of her eventually, especially if it came from Mother._

_…Mother. _

_Fuck. I hope Hermione’s mission is successful so I get my Mum back. _

His bubble of happiness was officially broken at the thought, and only worsened when he was smacked upside the back of his head.

Draco whirled around, glaring at the culprit. “What the hell was that for, Potter?”

Potter glared back, his green eyes sparking dangerously. “Keep your hands and mouth to yourself until I hear otherwise from Hermione, got it?”

He sneered. “Whatever, Potter. She wasn’t exactly protesting, if you didn’t notice.”

Potter sneered back and shuddered exaggeratedly. “I’d rather not think about it again, thank you very much.”

Draco wished her could turn the apparently immortal boy into a toad, but he didn’t think that would go over well with the beautiful witch he was trying to impress, so he refrained himself with the consolation that Hermione would be his girlfriend after all of this and Harry Potter would have to live with that. 

* * *

Hermione exchanged exasperated looks with Ginny and Luna as the redhead mouthed ‘boys’.

'I know, right?' she mouthed back. _Do they always have to act like Neanderthals? _

“Enough!” she said sternly to the two boys who looked like they’d stand in a glare off until the end of time if she let them, She pushed Draco out of the closet as Ginny pulled Harry out by the back of his jacket. “Your assignment while I’m gone is for the two of you to make at least a half-arsed effort at pretending to be civil to each other so that it’s not so hard to do when I’m back, got it?!”

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mum.”

Draco gave her an almost sincere looking smile of apology. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she stated firmly, pushing Draco back one more step until she was satisfied that everyone was out of range of the time-turner. "Now that we have that sorted, you five wait here and don’t move no matter what you see. If I disappear, it obviously worked. If, for some reason, you’re still standing there a minute afterwards and you can remember why, go to the stairs by the Headmaster’s office and I’ll meet you there. If I never leave or do come right back to this spot, well... we know it doesn’t work." She left unsaid that her failure would mean that they’d have to live with their current reality, but she knew everyone was thinking it by their grim expressions. "Okay?"

Her friends nodded, if a little reluctantly.

"Okay," Draco said softly. “I don’t like it, but okay.”

She smiled at him warmly. _Funny enough, I think Draco could actually be one of my friends too, even if I never go out with him. _

"All right, Mione, but I still don't like that you're going on your own," Harry protested, reaching for her beseechingly with one hand.

She stepped forward to hug her best friend quickly before pulling back from his strong grip that didn’t want to let her go. "I'll be fine, Harry. Promise. I know exactly what happened when and I already have a plan."

"What is it?" literally everyone asked at once, causing a few blinks of surprise as they glanced at each other.

She smiled at them with genuine amusement. "I'm going to take Dumbledore to the Little Hangleton graveyard before the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament takes place. He should have no problem dealing with Wormtail and a tiny, weak, Voldemort. I could probably do it all on my own, but I don't want to take any chances."

Harry's face split into a wide smile. "That's brilliant, Hermione!"

"A very good plan," Draco added, making sure she knew he approved as well. "It should work."

"It will work," Hermione said confidently.

Ginny rushed forward and hugged her hard. "Good luck. I'll see you by Dumbledore’s office in a bit, right?”

She hugged the younger girl back, comforted by the familiar. Even though they didn’t actually hug all that often, she was still like a sister to her. "Thanks, Gin. And yes, you will."

Hermione pulled away and walked back to the huge, enchanted hourglass. After giving her friends one last look of farewell, she grabbed the big knob on the side of the outermost circle and turned it a twelfth of a turn, which should take her back half an hour if this one worked the same as the one she'd used for nearly a year. (Adding almost half a year to her age over the course of it.) She wanted to do a short experiment before going back nearly three years to the June 24th, 1995, to make sure that she had the calculations correct.

The room blurred around her and the closet door closed itself.

Hermione breathed through the temporary feeling of vertigo. She was mildly surprised to find herself a few feet from where she started, but then noticed that the time-turner had returned to the corner and its hidden shape as a phoenix stand. _I suppose that makes sense, since I just went backward in time. _

Curious as to how far exactly, she walked over to the exit. Not seeing an obvious knob or trigger to open it, she used her wand to open the door, grateful that it didn't take any dramatics to do so. She then made for the exit to the hallway. As she arrived, she heard voices on the other side.

**"**As the Godson, I'm guessing you can get us in," she heard her own muffled voice say.

"Of course," Draco's equally muffled voice answered.

_Perfect. Or at least close enough. Surely it's been about half an hour that we've been in here. _Hermione quickly made her way back to the closet before her past self and entourage entered the office. She closed the door behind her with a wave of her wand and then turned to the magical device again, casting another spell to turn the stand back into a very big hourglass.

_Time to use all that arithmancy training. How many turns is it going to take to go back one thousand and forty-three days?_

_Simple answer; way too many. Real answer; four thousand, one hundred and seventy-two. _

_Still way too many. _

_Thank Merlin for magic wands._

As Hermione pointed her wand at the knob to make it spin faster than her eyes could follow, she thought, _Okay, time-turner, take me back to a time with a younger Snape, a still alive Dumbledore, and a Malfoy who doesn’t want to date me._

* * *

Just as the bookshelf door was beginning to creak open again by a sort of past Draco, Hermione disappeared once more.

And because she'd just changed everything by going backwards in time, the closet door slammed shut again, all of Dumbledore's things vanished from the small room, and the state and location of every person (alive or dead) on the castle grounds changed instantly. (In some cases, even radically.)

Hermione’s mission was undoubtedly a success, but it is yet to be seen just how it became so and what the end results would be.

* * *

**A/N: And that's it for the first book! In approximately 2 - 3 weeks, look for the first chapter of the sequel that continues this tale exclusively in the past and is definitely a Sevmione story. :D **


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